


Run to Me, Runaway

by lokifiction



Category: Loki (Marvel) - Fandom
Genre: (the holy trinity amirite), Angst, Asgard (Marvel), F/M, Fluff, Psychological Torture, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 57,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokifiction/pseuds/lokifiction
Summary: A life on the run can make you do the most mindless things for a way out.Eighteen-year-old Camryn had been fleeing from faceless family enemies for five years, torn between the actions of escape and gaining vengeance for the abduction and possible murder of her mother and father. In her travels, she happens to run into Loki, who promises her everything she’s ever desired and more, so long as she serves him in his questionable cause of saving the world through global domination. Upon her hesitant agreement, they begin to realize that their fates are entwined in every way possible, and become closer than they had ever intended.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short, expository chapter. Loki action starts in the next one, I promise!

My eyes snapped open and I jumped from my relaxed position as if jabbed with a hot poker, poised for attack. After a few moments of anxiously observing my surroundings, the heavy fog of sleep fading from my mind, I recalled where I was and sank back into the lumpy seat of the bus, the snagged upholstery smelling nauseatingly of sweat and meat gone bad.

"What time is it?" I turned to my left and regarded one of my two companions, my voice husky and thick to the point where it was unrecognizable.

"Nine twenty-eight," Lynnie replied promptly, twisting her dented watch about her thick wrist. "We should be in Columbia in a couple of hours."

"Thank god." Beanie nursed her gas-station coffee that would most likely have her vomiting that night and peeled her bottle-black curls from her neck. "I'm ready to get the hell off this bus."

I smiled in empathy, but hot tears stung the back of my eyes, causing me to have to firmly rub at them with my fists to hide my dread. The moment we set up camp at whatever sketchy, backwoods motel I could afford, I was setting out on my own, leaving behind my companions of almost six months now. Lynnie was at the tender age of thirteen and I had only taken her on because she ran away from home and bumped into me on a California-bound bus, and I knew from experience that it was far too dangerous and difficult for someone so young and so new to being a runaway to be on their own with no one to assist or guide them. From then on out, though she annoyed me and I disagreed with her decision to leave home, I felt responsible for her. As for Beanie, there were warrants out for her arrest in nearly every state, and one fateful night she barged into my lodgings for the evening, announcing that she had been following me for at least a week without my noticing, and that was the first of a long list of mistakes I was making if I wanted to avoid being caught.

However, I was a danger to those girls that had made such a lonely and joyless life happy and bright for me. I had been with them too long, and each day I stayed by their sides, they grew closer and closer to finding me and making my companions a package deal. I couldn’t risk that, for the things I imagined they could do to them were unspeakable.

The matter of who “they” were was a mystery that even I hadn’t solved. My father was the most successful businessman in our area, and like most successful men, he had quite a few enemies. Only this group was much worse than jealous colleagues.

This group, a band of men with dark hoods concealing their faces, used to corner him in bars, empty parking lots, and almost everywhere he went. He was always able to strike them back with measured words and a quick getaway, but he was constantly on edge. After a couple of months of their “nonsense,” as he called it, he decided to work remote for a few weeks, not leaving the house at all in the hopes that the men would get tired of trying to acquire whatever it is they wanted, for it was clear that they desired something he couldn’t give.

However, one night, my mother's car broke down in front of her office during an ice storm and my father was forced out of his siege to retrieve her. He never made it to my mother, and he never came home. He simply disappeared, vanishing in that icy night. 

My family filed a missing person's report as soon as we could and hired multiple private detectives, yet the investigations never closed. He hadn't been officially pronounced dead yet, but I knew, somewhere deep down, that he was.

Shortly after our family had somewhat recovered from his disappearance, the group reappeared, sending my mother a note that changed my life forever, stating that they were coming for me next.

"You have to run away. The police haven’t been successful in finding your father, so I don’t trust them with protecting you. I can’t go with you, because then these terrible people will suspect something. I’m so sorry. You’ll have to go alone," my mother instructed through sobs, frantically packing me a bag with trembling hands. "Stay away from here, move often, and don't get any ties. Do what you have to do to survive. I'll come for you when this is all resolved, I promise. I just can’t take a chance on them getting their hands on you, too. This is the only way."

So I, thirteen at the time and filled with fear, set off. I began my journey in the American Midwest and went from there, making a zigzagging path across the country, only making time to school myself with textbooks meant for homeschoolers, speeding through my courses and grading my own work so that I would have some form of education should the madness ever cease.

After five long years on the run, life was harder than I ever believed life could be, but my mother still hadn't come for me. I wouldn’t admit it to myself, but I was starting to believe that she never would, and that I would be on the run until I died.

Once the bus hissed into the station, I dragged my lethargic companions into the nearest motel and sped through check in, leading them to our temporary quarters.  
"Why do you always tell them to mark you as unlisted?" Lynnie questioned en route, her head cocked to the side. Beanie shushed her loudly, anxiously scanning our surroundings for anyone that might have heard.

"It's just a precautionary measure," I replied quietly. "Your name isn’t kept in the records, so you’re harder to track."

"Ooh." Lynnie nodded, her milky blue eyes wide. "Can you teach me more tips? So I could do it by myself if I needed to?”

Beanie huffed suddenly, shoving her torso forward and pushing past us. "They’re not tips, Lynnie,” she hissed, her voice venomous. "They’re a method of survival.”

"Well, how am I supposed to survive if you don’t tell me what they are?" Lynnie’s lip trembled as Beanie struggled to unlock the door, fumbling in her rage, eventually softening after a sideways glance at Lynnie’s plump, pitiful face.

"You learn by observing, and by making your own rules." Beanie shoved her bag down on the couch. "Dibs on the shower."

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling as I moved the khaki knapsack into the dusty corner, adding my black duffel and Lynnie's bright pink backpack to the pile.

"What is her problem?" Lynnie huffed as she plopped down on the bed, bouncing with the force of it. Ever since I met her, she had the unfortunate habit of regularly adopting a snooty, stuck-up attitude and becoming unbearably prissy when we didn't have conditions that didn’t reach her high standards, which was all the time. Beanie and I had spoken of her and those unfortunate habits quite often in hushed tones after she was dead asleep, and we often discussed and speculated the reason for her running away.

"I bet she broke her hair straightener and her parents got her a generic one to replace it instead of a name brand. Or they wouldn’t let her go to the nearest concert of whatever boyband is most popular right now,," Beanie had chuckled, then pursed her lips, changed her voice to a snobbish and nasally imitation of our companion, and whined, "My life is over!"

"She doesn't have a problem," I defended gently, pulling myself back to the present. "She's exactly right. Being a runaway isn't just something you can sit down and talk about. You have to devise your own strategies depending on your reason for running away. That’s the only way you’ll thrive."

Lynnie planted her hands on her swollen hips, pouting. "I thought you were on my side, here!"

"There aren't any sides." I sighed heavily and slid a crumpled wad of cash- part of a rapidly dwindling fund my mother sent with me when I first left- in my jeans pocket and knocked timidly on the bathroom door.

"Bean?" I called.

"Don't you dare call me Bean!" Beanie's harsh, manly voice rang out over the uneven beat of water on the surface of the filthy shower.

"I'm going to get some dinner. Any suggestions?" I leaned my arm against the doorframe and exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"I don't care, just bring me back some food! I’m starving."

“You’re so helpful, as always,” I drawled, lacing up my worn boots and hurrying out of the room, eager for some fresh air. I had a restless soul and had an awful tendency to overthink anything and everything, and if I stayed still, my thoughts would spiral out of control, digging deeper and deeper until I forced myself to employ harmful methods to bring them back to the safe, comfortable surface.

I shoved open the stuck wooden door, chips of vomit green paint raining down upon me, and was immediately slapped by a shocking blast of chilly air. As a Missouri native, I knew that such cold weather was unusual for Columbia in November, but dismissed it quickly, assuming that the region was simply to have a harsh winter that year, and the temperature was a mere warning sign. As I ducked my head against the repeated icy blasts and started down the streets, dodging college students coming from the university a few blocks away for a party, rain started to pelt my head, soaking my dark braid.

"Really?" I muttered, pulling the hood of my sweatshirt up, shielding my face.

I cast my eyes back to the pavement, continuing down the street at a quicker pace, but a soggy newspaper bobbing in a puddle caught my eye. I crouched to pick it up, squinting at the smudged and fading headline. When I could finally make it out, I gasped and nearly dropped the dripping pages, staring in horror at the words:

 

Southwestern Missouri Woman Missing for a Week; Disappearance Seems to be Linked to the Fact That Husband Has Been Missing for Five Years

 

And printed under the article, clear as day, was a picture of my mother.

***

I huddled in the minuscule motel bathroom an hour later, a threadbare towel clutched to my bony chest, droplets of freezing water falling from the ends of my hair and tracing down my back in tickling rivulets. My cell phone, a cheap, prepaid, and utterly untrackable thing, rested on the counter, foggy with condensation, taunting me. I had never used it, for it was supposed to be only for contact once everything had been resolved or if I was having a life-or-death emergency, but that instance was different. 

Mom couldn't be missing, not her. She would never have allowed anyone to take her. Besides, Dad's enemies were after me, not her. Was she in their grasp just for the purpose of being bait for me? And if she was being used to get to me, would she want me to go to her and risk losing everything we had both slaved over for the past five years, or just leave her there to suffer through whatever they were doing to her, yet retain my freedom?

"Get yourself together, Camryn," I whispered roughly. "Just call your mother and see for yourself. One call isn’t going to hurt anything, even if you haven’t spoken to her in five years..."

I hesitantly extended my hand and retrieved the phone, staring blankly at it. I finally began to press the buttons slowly, holding my finger down much longer than necessary as I entered her all too familiar number. When the empty tone of the last digit being dialed died away, I waited for one final, agonizing moment before hitting call.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I put my thumb to the button and held the phone up to my ear, my hand shaking. The line rang once, twice, three times.

And then clicked off.


	2. Chapter 2

Quietly as I could manage, I returned what little I had taken out to my bag and slid the strap over my shoulder, pausing to write a quick note on a crumpled piece of the motel stationery, explaining my regretful situation to Lynnie and Beanie. Once I had placed it in a spot they were sure to find it, I pulled my hood up over my head, cast one last look around the room and upon my sleeping companions, then squeezed out of the door, locking it tightly behind myself.

Once in the solitude of the decaying balconied walkway, I pawed through my bag, seeking the one thing I always clutched in my fingers during traveling, pushing aside my few possessions in pursuit of it. My fingers finally closed around the pocketknife residing at the bottom, and I slid it into my jacket, where it was more readily available. It wasn't an ideal weapon, but I knew that I must always stay on edge despite limited resources, poised to fight and defend myself against any enemies lurking in the shadows, especially now, what with recent events.

After properly preparing myself, I hoisted my bag higher up on my shoulders and crept down the steps, ducking my head to avoid eye contact with tired travelers giving up on their quests for the night. Once off of motel property, I made my way to the same bus station we had pulled into that morning, studying the automated board of scheduled departures. The next bus was bound for New York, set to leave in ten minutes. 

I normally wouldn’t go to such a hub of a city, especially one so populated, for that was exactly where I was expected to be. I knew that the moment I arrived, I would end up on the map of my trackers. However, the next departure was not until 10:30 in the morning, and by then Lynnie and Beanie would be awake and surely come to the station and attempt to lure me back. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I wouldn’t have them in danger because of me any longer. Hoping I wouldn't come to regret my decision, I purchased my ticket and boarded swiftly, sliding into an empty seat in the back row, right next to the emergency exit.

Those actions had become a solid routine, and the pattern was never altered in the slightest. Get on a bus, stay somewhere for a night, two only if I felt as safe as I could, then return to the station before dawn the next morning. However, for some reason, that time felt like it would be different; that my habits were soon to be changed. I wasn't sure if it was the possibility that my mother was being used as bait for me or the fact that I was leaving my first and only true companions behind, but something inside me seemed to whisper that New York City would be the last stop on my dizzying journey to stay hidden.

 

When my eyes peeled themselves open many hours later, the scene outside the window was nothing but an endless green blur. Once my vision cleared, I noticed that the bus was passing through a tranquil, forest-covered mountain range, tainting the beautiful landscape with its stinking exhaust. I chewed my lip, wondering how much longer the drive would be, when a young mother of two read my mind and became my lifesaver.

"Driver?" She inquired, pulling her daughter's sticky hand away from where it was clasped around the woman's messy blonde hair. "How much longer?"

"About three hours, ma'am, though we'll be making a short stop in New Jersey." 

Sighing impatiently at the answer, I moved my pack from where it rested as a makeshift pillow against the window to the empty seat beside me, then pulled my tangled hair out of my hood and start to gently tame it, tying it back into a braid that rested well past my waist. Once that was finished, I slid my feet out of my boots and pulled my knees up to my chest, burying my nose in my thighs, my thoughts and doubts running free and unchained, unanswered questions swirling in my mind, reminding me of actions that could very easily turn into mistakes. 

Why did I really leave Lynnie and Beanie behind? I supposed it wouldn't have been too bad if I had explained my situation and given them the option to assist me. I had considerably good self-defense skills and a highly controllable fight-or-flight instinct, and if I ever encountered my father's enemies, I was sure I could fend them off long enough for the two to escape. 

But, I reminded myself, it was too late now. The deed was done. It was an unchangeable reality that I would never see snarky Beanie or perky Lynnie again.

 

***

 

The bus steamed into the stop and I hung back as the doors jolted open, allowing all other passengers to file out before hurrying into a welcome center adjoined to the station. I positioned myself in front of a wall of informational brochures, looking up and down for a list of cheap hotels. I eventually spotted the right pamphlet, and seized it quickly and ducking out of the shop.

Once immersed in a considerable crowd buzzing along the sidewalk, I opened the small booklet and scanned the list of bargain hotels and their addresses, aiming to locate the closest yet least expensive place to hide out at for the night. My eyes were cast downward, only glancing up to briefly check my location. 

At first my distracted walking seemed to be no issue, for every other streetwalker curved around me as a reflex, until one, however, did not. I had been squinting at the name of the hotel I selected and then at a list of directions on the next page, tracing the lines of the map with my finger when the top of my head collided roughly with someone's chest.  
My face grew hot and my gaze remained on my feet. "I am so sorry about that,” I gasped. “I swear, I can be so clumsy sometimes."

After far too many uncomfortable moments of rocking back and forth on my heels, I finally forced myself to look up, only to be met with a pair of stunningly emerald eyes. Once my vision focused I was able to scan the rest of his face: sculpted cheekbones, long, raven black hair framing porcelain skin, and smooth pink lips. At five foot eight, I usually exceeded or rose to at least near the same height as everyone I encountered, but this man seemed to be at least half a foot taller than me.

"The fault was mine," he intoned in a velvety voice, one that nearly caused me to melt on the spot. His large, round eyes traveled to my hand, which was clutching my knife, just as it always was when I came to a new place, hidden behind the brochure.

Suddenly, the man's eyes snapped shut and his form froze, lips curling into a frown. He remained that way for quite some time, so long that I almost walked away, but when his eyes finally reopened, they were no longer the liquid emerald I had been so enchanted by, but a shocking blue.

"You look a bit concerned," he purred, his voice still honeyed and subtly seductive, but there was a new menace behind his words. "Why don't you follow me? Perhaps I can provide you with a place to stay that will certainly be preferable to whatever you've selected from that list you have there and discuss what is troubling you."

"Um..." Biting my lip, I nervously tucked a piece of hair back into my braid. Every fiber of my being screamed to say no, but a warm and relaxed feeling had washed over me, and before I knew it I heard myself saying: "That would be nice, actually. If it's not inconvenient."

"If it was, I would not have offered. Follow me." The man beckoned for me as he turned, starting down the sidewalk, long ebony suit jacket billowing out behind him like a cape. I took a step to fall in line, but suddenly the warm feeling vanished, replaced with doubt that caused me to jolt to a stop. 

What if I had just encountered one of my father's enemies? What if this strangely hospitable man was there with the sole purpose of killing me? If I followed him, I could very well be dead in the next hour. Who bumps into a random stranger on the street and just asks them to stay at their place? Of course he was trying to lure me in to kill me. What was I thinking? How could I be so stupid? I couldn't possibly make all this effort to stay hidden only to slip up by accepting a housing offer from a strange man I had never met before in my life.

"Actually..." I declared, my grip on my knife tightening. "I have to go."

"Why is that, now?" The man prowled back to me, closing in so that there was only an inch of space between our noses.

"I forgot my wallet in the welcome center." I turned on my heel before I even finished speaking, prepared to sprint away as fast as my legs would take me, but was captured in his tight grasp.

"You’ll have to lie better than that to fool me," he hissed in my ear, pulling my hair away for better access, his cool breath tingling on my neck. I struggled to break his grasp, kicking and writhing, even biting repeatedly as his hand clamped over my mouth, but my attempts were in vain. 

My mind eventually cleared enough for me to finally think to use my knife, and I wrenched myself loose enough from my vice to twist my arm backwards, slashing for the man's throat. It would have been a clean slit if he wouldn’t have ducked at exactly the right time, revealing that he was clearly a skilled fighter and that I was no match for his ability. All in one motion, he detached one hand from around my waist to knock the knife from my fingers, maneuvering me so that I was jammed against his slender shoulder, his forearm restricting my breath. With what little I had remaining, I summoned up my voice as his hand slipped away from my mouth and let out a shrill scream. Why was nobody coming to my rescue? The streets, so crowded before, were now completely deserted.

Before I could ask myself why a city as populated as New York could have an empty street, the man's hand twitched up, making contact with my temple. I swayed on the spot for a moment, my mind seemingly detaching from my body, vision going fuzzy before fading completely to black.

 

***

 

I slowly pried my eyes open, but saw nothing but blackness. A rough blindfold was tied tightly about my head, obstructing my sight. A cloth of identical material formed a gag, stretching my mouth open, and I was bound to what felt like a cold metal chair. My head throbbed, and I detected hushed voices drifting over to me from a few feet away.

"Do you think she's awake yet?" A high-pitched yet obviously male voice inquired.

"I don't know," another murmured, this one gruffly deep.

"I think I'm going to go check."

There was a thud, as if the second man had put his hand out to hold back the first.

"Don't. He said that we weren't supposed to make contact with her, just guard her. If we disobey him, we'll be punished," the second man reprimanded nervously.

"He doesn't have to know," the first man argued.

"I said no," the second man hissed.

I strained my feet and arms against my binds, testing their strength. If these men were guards, surely they had weapons, and if I put my mind to it and formulated a plan, I could potentially fight them for a gun and escape. Where was I, anyway? Those people had to be my father’s enemies. Who else would capture me on the street and tie me up, monitored by guards? What did these monsters have in store for me? The same thing they did to Dad, whatever that was, or something totally different? And did they have Mom, as I suspected?

The door suddenly burst open, followed by the sound of slow, languid footsteps.

"Has she said anything?" the frustratingly enchanting voice of the man that took me in the streets demanded.

"Nothing at all," the second man replied. "I reckon she's still unconscious."

"I doubt that." I sensed the the first man come closer, his breath shockingly cold on my raw face. "She’s considerably sly."

My blindfold was undone with deft, gentle fingers, revealing the man's beautiful electric blue eyes. I immediately tore my gaze away, instead taking in the small, dark room I was being held in. The two guards were dressed in military uniforms and had eerily blue eyes, brighter than even my original assailant, and I noticed that he had taken time to change, and was now outfitted in scratched gold and leather armor, unlike anything I had ever seen outside of a fantasy story.

"Let me go!" I screamed into the gag, struggling to pull my feet free from their binds with painful kicks at the legs of the chair, but my speech came out muffled and indistinct.  
"Ah," the man curled his thin, elegant lips into a sneer. "She would like to tell us something."

My gag was removed as well, and I didn't hesitate to begin my assault of words.

"What have you done with my mother and father?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes in an attempt to be intimidating even in my compromising position.

"I have no connection with your parents," the man said in a soft tone, taking a small step backwards. His eyes betrayed what seemed to be true confusion, but I was not convinced.

"Don’t play dumb! You killed my father, and now you're using my mother as bait to lure me here! Except that didn’t work, so instead you had to come get me yourself." I strained against the ropes once again, but they were stronger than I had originally estimated, and I did nothing but rub raw, burning sores onto my wrists.

"I assure you," the man's voice was very gentle now, "I've no idea what you are talking about. You must have me mistaken for someone else. Please calm yourself so I can tell you the true purpose of why I have you here."

I searched his face, looking for signs of falsity. "I'll hear you out, but know before you speak that I don't trust you, and if what you say turns out to be bullshit, I will break free and kill you and every single person under your command." I sat back in the chair, cocking an eyebrow and studying him expectantly.

"My name is Loki," the man began, "and I wish to have you assist me in achieving my purpose and mission on Earth. That is why I brought you here."

“‘On Earth’?” I echoed. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re not from this planet?”

“I’m a fallen king from an entirely different realm.” He put his hands over my wrists on the rests of the chair and leaned over them.

Shit, I thought. Not only am I captured, but I’m captured by a lunatic. That makes escape a bit harder.

“The fact that you’re insane isn’t helping your case.” I shrunk away from him. “Should I call the local asylum, and tell them they have an escaped patient?”

I expected a slap of retaliation, at least a growl or flash of anger across his features, but he merely chuckled, a predatorial sound deep in his throat.

“If you stay here, this new reality will become easier for your small mind to grasp. Of course, you don’t have a choice. I need your assistance, whether it be willing or not. If you came of your own accord, your stay will be much more comfortable. I’d recommend taking that option.”

"If you want me to assist you, why did you knock me out and tie me up?" I squirmed, wishing for the unrestricted ability to cross my arms over my chest.

"I told you: I need you to complete my task. However, you struggled, and if I hadn't knocked you unconscious, I would have been forced to make you like them." Loki gestured to the guards in the corner.

"What about them?" I questioned. "What's wrong with them?"

"Now, they might help you believe that a world exists outside of this one. See their eyes?" Loki conjured a silver scepter with a cruelly shaped tip from seemingly out of nowhere. A glowing blue orb resting in the center matched the color of the haunting irises of the guards, as well as his own. "I can posses, hypnotize, whatever you would like to call it, anyone with this weapon. Once the deed is done, they are mindless. They only do something if I instruct them to, and they comply to whatever I command. For example," Loki turned his attention to the first guard, and the stocky man aimed his handgun to the floor and shot himself in the foot without a word, not even crying out. I cringed at the sight and reality of it. Okay...I thought. Either he’s not insane, those men are, or I am. The latter two seem more plausible.

"You see, my dear, you are far too bright to be a mindless slave." Loki smirked slightly, as if this phrase would magically make me join him right away. “It would be a shame to have to do that to you.”

"How do you know that I’m bright? How do you know you need me for your ‘cause’? What made you want me in the first place? As far as I know, we've never met before. You don't even know my name." I shifted in my seat.

"It's Camryn, is it not?" Loki boasted, giving my chair a threatening wobble before stepping away to pace lethargically about the room. "You see, my scepter receives its power from an unlimited and highly coveted power source called the Tesseract, but that is not its only purpose. I can also use it to communicate with the person whom a part of my purpose was assigned by. He has been watching you, and informed me that you would be mandatory to our cause, and to make certain that I had you on my side."

"You still sound insane to me.” I shrugged, processing the information I had just been given. Even if this man said that he was not associated with my parents, the one he was working for very well could be. What if he really was an alien like he said he was, and the horror that plagued my family was part of some interdimensional plot? Entertaining that possibility for a moment, I took a deep breath before asking: "What exactly is your purpose?"

"My priority is to retrieve the Tesseract and present it to my ally, who is in need of it. After that, I will be given the opportunity for domination of this realm-"

Completely baffled at how outrageous his words were, I interrupted him. “Are you honestly expecting me to think that you’re not insane? Only a lunatic says things like that and actually thinks they can make it happen."

"I already told you that you will be convinced of my honesty and power very quickly when you’re here. I understand why you would think me insane, but trust me when I say that it is a waste of your energy to do so, and also to try to escape. I assure you that there will be no way for you to. And consider this: if you come willingly, I just might help you track down these enemies of yours you say killed your father and are holding your mother as prisoner, so you can deal out your revenge," Loki cocked an eyebrow. "So, will you join me?"

I bit my lip. Oh, how I wanted to refuse, to say no and get the hell away from there, but the question of what would happen if I did lingered in the front of my mind. He definitely wouldn’t just let me stroll out, unscathed. Insane or not, that was the one statement of his I believed. He would make me his prisoner until I complied, or worse. That fact was painfully clear.

On the other hand, saying yes would be an incredibly stupid and reckless move, but it could also be useful. I still didn’t believe his claimed oblivion to the situation with my parents, and if he turned out to be part of the group that pursued my family, I could act as my own spy and gather intel on the organization and its motives, and find answers concerning my mother and father. Besides, if I did hope to escape, it might help to gain his trust first, and take time to learn the layout of his hideaway and the best way to get out.

After what seemed to be hours of pondering with three pairs of blue eyes trained intently on me, a familiar warm feeling spread across my chest, and the nervous knots in my stomach relaxed. I recognized it as the same sensation that washed over me when he was trying to convince me to come with him in the first place, but this time it was much stronger, and impossible to fight. My body went slack, and with the biggest sense of doubt and regret I’d ever felt, the part not enchanted by Loki screaming somewhere deep inside my head, I nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

The room I was promptly led after my tentative agreement to was snug and tightly packed, only slightly larger than the interrogation cell I was previously held in. However, I paid not much mind to the size, as I supposed that I wouldn't be occupying the place unless I was sleeping. The drab walls were an unpainted concrete, and a full-sized bed was pushed into a corner, with off-white bedding and fairly plush pillows. Since the makeshift room lacked a closet, a small, dinky clothing rack hugged the west wall, and a sagging oak dresser with a cracked mirror sat beside it. It wasn't necessarily luxurious living, but it was certainly a dramatic improvement upon some of my previous hideouts.

I dropped my bag in the nearest corner and changed out of my sweaty, dust-coated clothes into a pair of faded jeans and a royal blue top with clusters of small holes littering the hemline. I was informed that I would soon be given a uniform, but the tattered state of my windbreaker indicated that I had been dragged quite a ways and tossed around like a rag doll, and when I lifted it over my head, I discovered that a thin layer of dried blood from a collection of scratches and cuts had settled along my spine.

"How kind of you, Loki," I muttered to myself, roughly pulling my hair into a ponytail, glancing into the barely-useful mirror as I did so. "Such a gentleman."

After settling in, I took my pocketknife from my bag and slid it into my boot, then reported back to Agent Barton, one of the higher-ups in Loki’s organization and my direct boss. He was another one of the mind slaves, which made him incredibly eerie to be around, and gooseflesh rose up all over my skin every time I was in his presence. In that instance, he was waiting right outside my door, eyes boring into mine the moment I opened it, and didn’t move a muscle until he opened his mouth to speak.

"I've been told to take you to choose a weapon," he informed bluntly.

"Oh, um... okay." He abruptly began to walk down the halls at my response and I scurried to catch up with him. "What will I have to choose from?"

Agent Barton halted in his tracks to turn to face me, our heads avoiding collision by centimeters. "I would stop asking so many questions if I were you. We don’t like them around here."

I gulped and took a step back, shrinking in on myself until our heights were unequal, then followed with a considerably larger distance as he took off once more. As he took me through the hallways, I kept my eyes peeled, burning the layout and every connecting corridor in my mind so I could use it to escape.

At the end of the hall, we reached a large, steel door with an imposing lock. Barton undid it and shoved the door open with his shoulder, revealing a poorly-lit, warehouse of a room lined with shelves containing weapons upon weapons upon weapons. I slowly entered, clicking the lights on and tentatively eyeing the overwhelming plethora choices. Any weapon one could possibly imagine had its place in the expanse before me.

"You can test them in there." Barton gestured to an extension of the room with a set of targets on a far wall, separated by a wide glass window. "Choose whatever you'd like. Just make sure it's a wise decision, and that it’ll get the job done in your hands.”

With those haunting words ringing in my ears, I stepped further into the sea of weapons and observed what I had to choose from. The dominant item in the inventory was instantly recognizable as guns, with rows and rows of every shape and size of firearm laid out in their display cases, begging to be used. However, none were truly impressing me, but for the sake of a wide variety of options, I selected a simple black handgun and entered the testing area, positioning myself about thirty feet away from the nearest target. Barton helped me load it and guided me into a wide, sturdy stance. I raised the the weapon and fired three times, my wrists jerking almost painfully with each kick. Surprisingly, two of the three shots hit the target, and Barton raised his eyebrows in interest. However, I turned the gun over and over in my hands, still not completely comfortable with it. I eventually sighed and left the training room, returning it to its shelf.

"Why'd you put it up?" Barton jogged to keep up with me as I began to stride purposefully down the aisles. “You can’t expect to be perfect at something instantly. We would train you up and improve your accuracy and style in no time.”

"I don’t think guns are really my style.” I shrugged. “They just...didn’t feel right. I think I would feel better with something...I don’t know...more subtle, I guess.”

At that remark, he slowly and not-so-subtly inched over to the shelf containing nothing but archery equipment and positioned himself in front of it protectively. I assumed that bows were where his passion lied, and sensed he wouldn’t willingly share his extensive equipment. I enjoyed the concept of bows, yet found them too big and slow to be practical in the situations I got myself into, so I moved on, drawing a barely discernable sigh of relief from him.

After another half-hour of browsing the room, I still hadn’t found anything that felt right to me, and I began to panic. I was about to give up and settle for the handgun when a shelf tucked into a back corner caught my eye. I hurried to approach it, and front and center rested a 12-inch silver dagger with a set of smaller throwing knifes artfully arranged around it, practically screaming my name.

"Are you sure?" Barton inquired as I started to collect the dagger and knives from their case. "Those are tough to use. I hope you don't mind hand-to-hand combat."

“I...I think this is it.” I ran my fingers along the flat of the blade, something in my chest thrumming with affinity. “I know it will be hard, but…my roots are here. This feels like me.”

Barton gave one last shrug of warning before relenting, clearly just happy I had made a decision. He spent an hour in the training room teaching me the basics of using the knives, then again led me off, this time to receive my uniform, which was a simple black catsuit, made of an odd fabric that seemed to be a mix of spandex and leather. The pants hit me at my ankles, and the suit was form-fitting yet not skin tight. There were a few strategically placed pockets around the thighs that would be perfect for my throwing knives, and I was provided with a belt to strap my dagger on, so I secured my weapons and readied myself for whatever task Barton threw at me next.

“So, what now?" I inquired, toying with the hilt of my dagger, quite enjoying the empowering feeling of it on my hip. I had always felt so exposed with my pitiful pocketknife, but with my handsome new blade I felt prepared for any threat I could possibly encounter, and as if I could beat Loki to his supposed task of conquering the world.

Barton smiled slightly, an expression that could be considered mischievous if his eyes weren't so painfully empty of life. "Your actual work starts."

***

Over the next few days, Barton trained me on how to act as prison guard to the workers Loki had enslaved, making certain they were completing their tasks as mind prisoners should and not spies or moles from opposing sides. I didn't see much of my original employer except for in the evenings when he stopped by my room to interrogate about my performance and the progress of his secret project as a whole before I went to dinner, which consisted of bland, soggy food distributed from one of the non-hazardous storage areas.In those interactions, he was considerably more vague than he was in our first conversation, and cared much less about my personal contributions and skills than he did when I first met him. His mind always seemed to be somewhere else; he frequently trailed off and forgot what he was saying not two seconds before; his eyes had become sunken and rimmed with dark purple circles tinged hints of a sickening green; sweat coated his face as if he was ill; and his forehead was constantly creased in intense yet absentminded concentration. His haggard appearance further convinced me that he was insane, and that I ought to hurry up to piece together the small snatches of ideas I had into a plan for escape.

However, despite all of that, I couldn't help catching my breath as he turned his shockingly blue eyes to me, and be overcome with an urge to reach out and run my thumb along his prominent cheekbones; to wipe the fever from his brow and bring life to his eyes. Every time I was plagued with those urges that were as insane as he was, I tried with every last drop of my energy to push them aside to the furthest corners of my brain until they fell out completely. Becoming romantically involved with Loki would mean risking my life even more than I already was by working with him, and would be a completely blind and idiotic move. If I gave into the urges, the last five years of my life would turn out to be a waste and my parents' sufferings would be for naught.

On the fourth day of my new "job," I was deemed worthy and knowledgeable enough to oversee the room where a so-called portal was being built, among other things, mainly consisting of weapons to be powered by the Tesseract. I lingered near the back of the block, occasionally making a round through the endless aisles of workspaces and monitoring the progress of the employees, wondering how Loki had managed to mind control that many people. After a few interactions with the mind slaves, I assumed highly advanced hypnosis or some sort of drug had been the cause of their obedience, but the more I was around them, the easier it became to believe that some alien magic was at work.

At an early point in the day, I came across a thick, middle-aged man who didn't seem to know what he was doing, a red flag in spotting intruders. I hurried over to inspect him, but as I looked at his eyes, I realized that he was just clumsy even in the clutches of mind control, but the almost-discovery still put me on edge. I couldn’t imagine what Loki would do to me if I let an intruder slip by. I paced the aisles constantly, my efficiency as a guard considerably improved, biting my tongue until it bled. After about a half-hour of my scurrying about like a madman, a worker in the corner raised his scrunched face to glance at me for a split second, then turned away.

I stopped my movement and focused on the back of his head for a moment. The mind slaves weren’t supposed to look up; part of the control they were under was pure, unbreakable focus on their tasks. After further observation I noticed that the man in question also seemed to be glancing to those beside him as if trying to figure out what to do, and I tiptoed to stand at an angle that would give me a better look at him. 

As he once again turned his gaze upward to see where I went, I immediately noticed that his eyes were not the expected eerie blue, but a dull hazel. My stomach leapt into my throat with a sudden burst of adrenaline, and I readied myself to take action in one quick motion. He seemed to know what I was going to do before I even moved, reflexively yanking some sort of electrocuting device from his pocket and raising it so that it was poised to hit me full in the face, however, I acted swiftly and lodged a knife in his throat before his finger could even reach the trigger.

I stood stone-still for one too many moments, my heavy breath the only sound in the suddenly frozen room, each and every ice-blue eye affixed on me. I purposely ignored them as I stepped over to the lifeless body retrieve my knife with trembling hands, splattering blood onto my boots as I wrenched it from his jugular, cleaning the blade on a nearby grease rag, bitterly thanking my beginner’s luck for my accuracy. The two guards that had been standing in the corners of the room to assist me rushed over, asking if there was anything they could do.

"Dispose of the body," I instructed in a shaking voice, "and tell Loki I would like to speak with him."

Once the corpse had been dragged away, I instructed the inhabitants of the room to line up as I descended down their rows, checking the color of every individual’s eyes. Luckily, I found no other impostors, but was still quite shaken, partly because I had just killed someone, but also because I was starting to believe the things Loki said that originally made me think him insane. If what he’s doing warrants spies willing to kill or be killed for information, I thought as I chewed my nail, perhaps it’s more important than I thought. But surely he’s not an alien from an alternate dimension...is he?

The moment the impromptu inspection was over, I sprinted down the halls to the place I was told Loki would be at, pounding on the thick steel door urgently and rocking back and forth on my heels. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do, nor that I could feel the tuggings of allegiance to Loki’s cause in my heart. I considered turning and running away when it crossed my mind that Loki had likely worked some sort of mind control on me, too, but he called me in calmly before I could do so. The door’s rusted hinges creaked and groaned as I pushed into the room and positioned myself before him, fidgeting and pacing.

"I need to talk to you about something important," I began, my voice high-pitched and thin. All of the fight I had in me when I was tied to a chair, thinking he was my father’s enemy and out for revenge for my family, was gone.

"I've been informed." Loki pushed a stack of papers to the top corner of the enormous black desk he sat at and looked at me expectantly.

“Um… Well, I just thought that it might benefit you to have a few guards or even workers that are lucid, like me. I think it might decrease the chances of another spy getting in. That man had managed to get past all the guards and into the heart of what you were building before I noticed him, and even that wasn’t right away. I think that, while the mind control guarantees absolute loyalty, it reduces efficiency.”

"Excuse me?" Loki's expression and voice remained cool and measured, but a fire raged in his eyes as he stood to loom over me. "Are you attempting to instruct me on how I should operate my own organization? And simply because a minuscule security breach was too much for your fragile emotions to handle?"

“No, I…” As I trailed off, I began to wonder what I was even doing in there, trying to help his cause instead of simply learning it to escape it. “I was just trying to give you some advice I thought might be useful…”

"That is why I prefer not to associate with your kind." Loki's voice remained infuriatingly soft, and he turned his back to me in a swift motion. "Mortals are extremely dim and prone to overreact, and make a scene over the smallest things. I have everything under control. It is none of your concern. Know your place, which is not one to scold me."

Those words made every thread tugging me towards him snap, and my stomach dropped with sudden terror and anger.

“Oh, god!” I groaned, fisting my hands in my eyes. “I have to get the hell out of here. You told me you weren’t going to mind control me, but you did, didn’t you? You did it in some subtle way, which made me join you and fight for your cause without question and has even made me start to believe all that stuff about you not being from Earth, making me think it was just my openmindedness coming through...oh, god, I have to get away from you!”

Not even bothering to wait for Loki’s reaction, which I’m sure would’ve ended in my death, I fled the room and sprinted down the halls blindly, forgetting any notion I ever had about looking for my parents or finding information about them, if it was even there to be found. I just wanted to get out, and I trusted where my feet were taking me and the instinct from somewhere deep inside me that guided my body. I didn’t question when it implored me to slow in front of my bedroom door, which I wrenched open and hurried past, screaming through clenched teeth and throwing myself facedown on the bed. There, I began to emit choked, panicked sobs, my chest rising and falling shallowly, my lucidity returning just as I realized that I had likely been mind controlled once again into coming back to my room.

What was going on? Despite the fact that I had broken away from the subtle manipulation of my thoughts, I was becoming even more convinced that Loki had some kind of mystical power. My situation was even more dire than I thought, and I had to abandon my pretense of finding out if Loki was being truthful when he said he had nothing to do with my parents and just leave. I could find them from the outside later, when I had more time to formulate a plan. If I stayed, I would die because of what I said to Loki, or succumb to his manipulation completely, forgetting my cause and becoming utterly devoted to him.

Having made my decision, I took out my dagger and readied myself to run, stepping over to the door and reaching for the knob, my heart dropping when it didn’t turn. I experimentally jiggled it again, roughly that time, pushing at the metal of the door with my shoulder. When it still didn't budge, I realized too late that I had been locked in. Completely mindless as to what would’ve been a smart move at that point, I began to pound the surface frantically with my fist, calling out.

"Can anybody hear me?" I screamed. "I've been locked in!"

I pushed against the door with all of my might, pleading for help once more. Embarrassingly, tears had started streaming down my face as I began to fumble around with the knob again, bruising my feet as I relentlessly kicked the unyielding surface. Vaguely, I picked up the sounds of agents whispering on the outside of my now-cell and howled in frightened rage. Why wouldn't they let me out? Why was I locked up in the first place? And why was I yelling like this? They weren’t going to help me. Hell, they were probably the firing squad set to execute me when I finally got out.

After exhausting myself with my efforts enough to sit down and think clearly, I finally thought to grab a hairpin and pick the lock, and was finally able to swing the door open. I readied myself to fight the rain of gunfire that was sure to come down on me, but froze in my tracks when there wasn’t any. I straightened myself from my defensive stance and noticed that the agents surrounding my door didn’t even have their weapons out, but were simply watching me curiously, making no move to subdue me.

Suddenly, another feeling took hold of me, but it wasn’t the warm, comfortable one of Loki’s strange magic. It was the fiery, burning fingers of my anger and fight squeezing on my heart, tugging me towards where I knew I needed to be, free of any sort of outside manipulation. For once, I was acting on my thoughts and my thoughts alone. I pushed past the observers with a feral growl and began to storm down the halls, not to the exit, but to Loki’s room, ready for battle.


	4. Chapter 4

Red singed the corners of my vision as my rage practically caused me to fly through the corridors, slamming my palms hard against the door to Loki’s quarters, the force of the blow causing the steel to burst open instantly and swing limp on its hinges.

"So I see you decided not to run off, after all." Loki raised his eyebrow from where he sat at his desk in front of an untouched meal, not looking up from the report he was reading.

"Well, I sort of couldn’t, seeing as I was locked in my room. Why the hell did you do that?” I screamed, so frustrated that I was on the brink of tears. I frantically attempted to blink them away, reminding myself that crying in front of him would be a huge mistake. Crying in front of anyone was a huge mistake, one I constantly failed to heed.

"I could not afford to lose you," he replied in a quiet and calm tone, taking a long sip from a glass of red wine.

"Excuse me?" I sputtered.

Loki’s sigh was heavy with annoyance as he began to explain, finally dropping the report and reclining in his chair, folding his hands into the shape of a steeple. 

"If I would not have locked you in your quarters, your petty anger would have caused you to act rashly and leave. I know how mortals function, especially temperamental ones like yourself. You are intelligent enough that you would not have relayed your experiences here, so that is not my concern, but your skills are too valuable to my cause to lose."

"What skills?" I demanded with a spiteful chuckle. "Knowing how to tell eye colors apart?"

"You'll know soon enough. Your time has not yet arrived. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go, for I have a task to see to. Barton is coming with me, and we should return in a few hours. If you need anything, consult with a man called Briggs, as he's being put in charge until my return. But no matter what you do, do not bother Erik Selvig." Loki pushed past me and exited the room, breezing down the halls.

"And where are you going, might I ask?" I hurried to catch up with him, almost tripping over my own feet in the process.

"I cannot tell you that." Loki lengthened his stride, but I easily matched it.

"Let me get this straight: one minute I'm 'too valuable to your cause to lose' and the next you won't even tell me where you're going or what you're doing. Who am I to you? Make up your damn mind!"

Loki halted abruptly and I stumbled, my forehead mere centimeters away from colliding with his chin. "Maybe that is what you should be doing."

"What- what does that mean?"

"I know that you are not here for my cause. I know you are here for your own purposes, to take refuge from faceless enemies. You don’t even believe my claims of where I’m from and the universe beyond Earth, even though the truth is so glaringly obvious, if you would only open your eyes. You would not be as valuable to me as a mind slave, but I will not hesitate to turn you into one if you do not start behaving. Then your purposes and resolve will fade away and it will only be me." Concluding his speech, Loki turned on his heel with a swift motion and left me standing in my tracks, dumbfounded. I considered following him for a moment, but I was too stunned by the sting of the truth to move a muscle.

I spent the rest of the day in a dizzying haze of my own thoughts, processing and pondering Loki’s words until my head hurt, questioning everything.

“The truth is so glaringly obvious,” I murmured to myself again and again, “if you would only open your eyes.”

Barton returned long after nightfall alone, and encountered me as I wandered the dank, musty halls in a complete stupor.

"Where's Loki?" I inquired as he passed me. “I figured he’d be coming to my room for an interrogation the moment he returned.”

"Loki’s been captured," Barton replied shortly, removing his quiver from across his back.

"You have got to be kidding me," I chuckled hollowly. "That insane bastard has gotten himself captured, imagine that."

"It's all part of his plan," Barton quipped like a programmed robot, which, I reminded myself, he was.

"Of course it is." I crossed my arms over my chest, taking a step towards him. “And what is this plan of his, might I ask?"

"I can't tell you that."

I smacked my lips, inclining my head to one side as I positioned myself so that Barton and I were nose to nose. "Well, you may not be able to tell me anything, but some weird shit is going on around here. I have trouble believing any word that comes out of any one of your mouths. I don’t know if Loki’s insane, or if you’re all insane, but you’re in a block with hundreds of workers and soldiers, and a frightening amount of weapons, working under a leader that claims he’s an alien and that you’re working towards global domination. I’m not denying that it could be true, but you have to admit, it’s hard to believe. You all expect me to be completely loyal to a cause that I know nothing about. But mark my words, Barton. I will find out, one way or another."

I took my leave after that, but as I walked away from Barton, who was frustratingly unfazed, something tugged at my mind, telling me that I had the perfect chance for escape now that Loki was gone. I knew that I should’ve followed that instinct, for it was what had guided me for the past five years, but a different force, the same one that earlier made me walk to Loki’s room and not out the fortress, tugged harder. It reminded me that I still hadn’t found out for sure if my parents were somewhere in Loki’s grasp, and that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to look for them.

Over the next few days, I desperately tried to discover any minuscule detail that might concern my parents or who Loki really was. I perused documents that made no sense whatsoever and studied blueprints for devices I had no idea existed, and when those failed I turned to asking the workers, which also proved to be utterly useless. Hardly any of them knew the bigger picture beyond their personal tasks, and those who did refused to speak. Regardless, I asked and interrogated and pushed until the threat of another lockdown was held over my head. 

Soon, I came to a point where there was no more information available to me, and I was forced to draw the conclusions that deep down I had known to be true the entire time: that Loki really didn’t have anything to do with my parents, and that he wasn’t insane, for the data before me inarguably revealed that worlds beyond Earth and magical relics such as the Tesseract truly did exist. I supposed that I should’ve been more shaken by that discovery than I was, but I reasoned that if I lived in a world where I was forced to run away at age thirteen and raise myself on the streets because of some crazy foes of my father’s, a bigger universe wasn’t so hard a concept to grasp. 

Nevertheless, I was devastated that I had come no closer to finding out what happened to my parents and only gotten myself caught up in a bigger mess, but I knew that remaining loyal to Loki could have its benefits. In his block, I no longer needed to run, and had some twisted semblance of a home and safety. His otherwordly expertise was also attractive, for I could use it to find out who really had my parents, and employ his immense power to release them. His plan for world domination, especially with what I’d seen of his personality, still wasn’t something I could condone, though, so I knew I had to start sucking up and get my tasks done quickly, so I could get out before that plan came to culmination.

Just as I was making those conclusions and formulating my plans, Barton burst into my room and instructed me to suit up and follow him to go get Loki.

"So Loki's finally going to use whatever supposed skills I have?" I questioned as Barton led me out of the underground fortress. The sunlight blinded me as I was rushed towards a waiting helicarrier, barely finding my way through the open hatch, and I did so with a heavy, contented sigh. After so much time in such a dimly lit place, being back in the dark was a relief. I slid into a seat built into the wall of the aircraft, fastening the harness-like belt as we took off, wondering what kind of situation Loki had gotten himself into; what kind of situation I had gotten myself into.

After about half an hour of flying, the helicarrier abruptly halted in midair, the hatch opening with a vast collection of mechanical whirring noises. Barton rose from his seat, stepping down onto it and loading his bow. I craned my neck to try and see what he could possibly be attempting to hit at 30,000 feet in the air, but his body obstructed my view as he fired, letting his weapon fall to his side as he watched his arrow hit home. Without looking away from his target, Barton gestured over his shoulder, and the soldiers in the craft with us began to ready their weapons and strap on discarded bits of protective clothing, and at the sound of a muffled explosion they all rose from their seats. Barton turned briefly to order me to stay put before leaping out of the carrier, all the men following in his wake.

I clenched my teeth with a sharp huff as I sank back into my seat, flipping knives at the wall for entertainment and practice. Guess I wouldn't be seeing any action, after all, despite what I had believed earlier. I was beginning to think that I would never know what skills of mine Loki valued so much.

Just as I began to worry that I had made the wrong decision by staying, Loki narrowly missed getting one of my knives lodged in his eye socket as he slid in through the hatch I hadn’t even noticed opening again, and the aircraft began to speed away at an alarming pace.

"Be careful with those things, would you?" he hissed, jerking the blade from my makeshift target on the wall. “Your carelessness is going to get someone hurt.”

"Nice to see you, too," I drawled in greeting, rolling my eyes. "You and Barton can't seem to stay together. Was his not returning also 'part of the plan'?"

"Actually, it was not. Agent Barton is no longer with us. He has been compromised."

"Well, what are we going to do now?" I urged Loki to continue.

"Our operation should still run smoothly without his services. Only a few small details will require alteration." Loki let out a heavy exhale in what seemed to be relief. "The difficult part of this task should end shortly."

The aircraft paused to hover over an obnoxiously large building in the middle of Manhattan, and Loki gave a concise explanation that revealed it it to be Stark Tower, home and workplace of a man named Tony Stark; a man he craved to make an ironic fool out of. Loki stepped to the open hatch and inquired after the progress of a portal and the Tesseract with Erik Selvig, a vital engineer to his purpose that was working from the roof. Once he had gotten the information he wanted, Loki gave the order for the helicarrier to drop a few stories. He strode out onto a handsome and modern outdoor balcony, and motioned for me to follow.

"What are we doing here?" I dared to question, fully expecting to receive no answer.

"Waiting," he replied, scanning the brilliant azure sky, muddled only a few fluffy white clouds. It was such a beautiful day, but beautiful in the way that foretold a disaster on the horizon.

"Waiting...for what?"

"Waiting for the Tesseract to connect to the medium Dr. Selvig has created and open a portal that connects to another point and dimension in space. My army, which is made up of programmed creatures called the Chitauri, will come to conquer the city, and then move outwards from here."

Crap, I thought. There goes my plan to get out before he starts enacting his domination plans. How do I escape this now?

Loki ran his tongue over his lips, not noticing my inner dilemma. "But as the Chitauri have no means to arrive yet, all we can do is wait. While we're doing so, I want you inside, searching for every bit of information you can find."

"On what?" Apparently the great talent of mine that Loki so desperately needed was, in fact, looking for things.

"Anything relating to the topics of the Avengers Initiative or S.H.I.E.L.D, especially their weak points, and what could potentially tear them apart."

"Well, alright. Don't miss me." I decided against putting up a fight and walked away to do my menial duty, trying to decide what to do about getting out of the situation as I planned, and whether I should even attempt. I hadn’t gotten what I wanted from Loki yet, and if he did succeed in world domination, which I now believed him to be completely capable of, it could be beneficial to be on the winning side for safety.

I entered the heavily air-conditioned tower and began my search, pawing through drawers overstuffed with jump drives and bits of mechanical equipment, playing with codes on computers advanced decades beyond what was offered to the public, and flipping through the slim collection of hard copy files. I found nothing of import, but kept searching without relent to buy myself time to make up my mind, starting from the top floor of the building and working my way down, so far that I eventually found myself in a completely concrete basement, windowless and void of any information that I could decipher.

Nevertheless, I continued to try, my thoughts reeling all the while.

***

I was thirteen floors from the top, making my way back up to start my search over when the battle began. I didn't notice what was going on at first, as the signs were heavily spaced out, and I was otherwise preoccupied. First came the smashing of glass, which I assumed to be an outburst of anger from Loki, then a singular blast, which startled me but was easily dismissed, and suddenly the room I occupied became engulfed in the sound of muffled bangs and explosions. I dashed to the window, ripping aside the drapes and peering out, my blood going cold at the sight laid out before me.

Futuristic, robotic-like creatures I assumed to be the Chitauri soared across the sky on hovercrafts and prowled the streets with enormous firearms, destroying everything in their path. Civilians ran in terror, and police officers scrambled to tame the flow of the animalistic soldiers pouring from the portal: a gaping, blue-rimmed hole in the once so clear sky that revealed the constellations of an entirely different galaxy, a sight that would have been beautiful in a different situation.

A single group was able fight off the unique creatures, and though they were few compared to the massive army, they were succeeding in eliminating them. The group consisted of a muscled man bearing a tight-fitting uniform emblazoned with stars and stripes; a person in a shocking red metal bodysuit; a giant of a man in a cape and armor resembling Loki's, waving around a giant hammer; a great, green, alien-looking thing that smashed everything in sight; a woman in a black catsuit similar to mine, fighting better than anyone around her with nothing but handguns; and, to my great surprise, Barton.

I bit my lip as I watched them fight. I knew that they were doing the right thing, and the side I was on was wrong. I knew I should take advantage of Loki’s distraction and slip out, and return to my life on the run. It was dangerous for me to be around him, because he knew of my ulterior motives, and could decide to kill me for them at any moment. Besides, if I ever did come to a position where I could be respected by society, would I even gain it if they knew I fought for someone that was out for world domination?

But I was also suspicious of Loki’s true motives. He may have repeatedly talked about his plans to rule Earth, but he was never a fanatic about it. He never said why he wanted to take over the planet, and I had never heard him say anything about any major prejudices he had, other than the one against humans in general. Additionally, he was so insistent that he have me and that I didn’t leave him, but he had yet to reveal why I was so valuable. I got the sense he didn’t know, himself.

During my reasonings, my mind flitted to our very first meeting. His eyes had been a gorgeous deep green when I first bumped into him, but then he did that strange thing where he closed them and went silent. When he opened them again, they were a blue too brilliant to be a natural eye color change, and his demeanor was completely altered. He had seemed tense, and almost anxious. As I analyzed that further, I got the sense that he wasn’t really the boss in the situation, and that he was working for someone else.

As the view from the window was engulfed in flames from a nearby explosion, I realized that, whether I liked it or not, something was tying me to Loki, and made me wont to leave him. I told myself that it was only the knowledge that he was the only one that could help me find and free my parents. He, strange and elusive as he was, was the only person that could put my family back together. I couldn’t leave that opportunity behind and return to a cold, empty life on the run. But I knew that in order to get my parents back, I had to take the risk for myself and fight against good.

Once I decided that, my mind went completely calm. Numb, even. My hand moved of its own accord to slide my dagger from its sheath, and I made my way to the elevator, prepared to go out and fight. Not for Loki, not for his cause, but for my family. Some faraway thought reminded me that I had no battle experience and that my training with my knives was minimal, but I felt no fear and continued forward. I was driven by the image of myself wrapped in my parents’ arms, both of them safe and happy. I was willing to do anything to get that.

I entered the elevator and instinctively pressed a button, tightening my grip on my blade. I vaguely wondered how I would even begin to fight, or who I would even fight against. However, little did I know that my question would be answered for me in seconds, because the moment the elevator doors slid open, I was met by the enormous green creature from the group in the streets. And little did I know that there would be no reason for me to fight him, because he didn’t notice me at all, for he was preoccupied with smashing Loki against the wall.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mild violence and blood at the end of this chapter.

"Holy shit!” The amused profanity slipped between my lips before I could stop it, effectively breaking my battle-ready stupor. I tried and failed to restrain myself from doubling over in laughter at the sight of Loki, immobilized and whimpering, stuck in a crevice in the floor. After the stressful and confusing and life-changing few days I had, it was the perfect comic relief, and sorely needed. I sat and guffawed for several moments, releasing many of my conflicting emotions, grateful they were coming out through laughter and not tears.

"What’s so amusing?" Loki hissed through clenched teeth, not even lifting his head to look at me as his features contorted into a scowl, broken lips drawing away from clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-” I broke off for even more laughter. “It’s been a long week, and everything is just coming out of me right now.”

“Oh, well, I’m so glad I could provide you with a medium of release,” he bit, yet still made no effort to move. 

“No, I’m really sorry. I’ll stop now.” The last few giggles rippled through my chest as I wiped the corners of my eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Loki snarled, so harshly I took a few steps backwards. The entire time I had been in the room, he hadn’t looked at me, but I stared at him for a few pregnant moments before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear and turning away, awkwardly pacing the room, unsure of whether to stay or go.

“You can leave, you know,” came Loki’s voice from behind me, very much mild and subdued, almost melancholy. I turned to face him once more, gesturing towards the door.  
“And go to the battle?” I asked. “Or do you still want me looking for stuff?”

“No. Leave entirely.”

I furrowed my brow and took a tentative step towards him. Loki finally turned his head ever-so-slightly to make eye contact with me, his now a pale jade.

“I know you want to look for your parents,” he explained. “I won’t keep you from that any longer. You’d better leave quickly, though, because I may be telling myself that all I need to do is rest for a few minutes and then return to the battlefield, but it’s very likely that I’ve lost entirely. If they find you here with me, you’ll be made a prisoner of war.”

“Oh. Um...alright, then.” I turned away and made for the door, believing that Loki’s words were an uncharacteristically kind way to tell me he wanted me out, though I still didn’t feel settled at them. I had thought that if he ever said something like that to me, I would have an enormous sense of relief and run out as fast as I could, but once it actually happened, I only grew more anxious and even had a sense of longing. I felt a pull from the strange thread that connected me to Loki, and just as I was about to press the button for the elevator, it gave a mighty tug, causing me to whirl around and walk right back over to him.

“Actually,” I began, once again feeling possessed, “I would feel really terrible leaving you here like this. Is there anything I can do for you?”

"Not at the moment, no." Loki winced as he started to push himself into a sitting position. I reflexively offered my arm for assistance, but was surprised even still when he accepted it, tightening his grip on my wrist as he peeled himself from the ground, groaning low in his throat. I gauged that he had major spinal bruising and a broken rib or two, and possibly some even worse ailments. Nonetheless, they seemed to be healing quickly, seeing as his speech was becoming clearer and the blind pain was beginning to fade from his face.

“I told you to leave before they find you,” he said, letting go of me and digging his fingers into the jagged floor for support.

“I know, but it looks like we have a while before anyone’ll get here.” I gestured to the battle still raging outside the window. “Besides, even if you weren’t the nicest to me, by any means, you did provide me with some sort of home, which is something that I haven’t had in five years. I really appreciate that, so I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least help patch you up a bit.”

“Are you sure?” This time when Loki’s brow drew up, it wasn’t with the usual haughty arch in the lower half, but an earnest, boyish tug of the top towards his nose. The expression made him appear an entirely different man from the purring, animalistic one that first abducted me in the streets. This man made my heart beat faster, and the strange, irksome thread that tied me to him was thrumming.

“Yes. Let me do this so I can repay your hospitality. Besides, cleaning you up probably isn’t going to be pleasant for you, so it will be a nice payback for your rude behavior towards me.”

Loki chuckled, hanging his head modestly. His new demeanor made him seem years younger. If he had been like that when trying to get me to work for him, I would have been much more cooperative.

“I’m going to go find some supplies. I’ll be right back.” Unsettled by Loki’s changeability and my sudden attraction to it, I gave his hand an awkward pat and jogged to the elevator.

It didn’t take me very long to track down an appropriate first-aid kit, seeing as I already knew where one would be after my original search of the tower, but it didn't take them long to assemble, either. When the elevator doors slid apart after I retrieved the supplies, I discovered that the group Barton joined had positioned themselves over a crouching Loki, their vast array of weapons trained on him.

"Is that the one?" The iron-suited man gestured in my general direction, and I had to fight the urge to slam the elevator doors shut and make for the ground level as fast as I could. However, I forced myself to resist and take a step into the room, setting the kit down on the floor beside me.

"Yes, that's her," Barton answered, lowering his bow a bit, letting the arrow fall out of place momentarily.

"What's going on?" I squeaked, inching along the wall with hesitant, sideways steps, attempting to put myself out of harm’s way.

"The battle was a loss," Loki spat from his position on the steps leading up to a bar. “All due to a foolish mistake on my part, one I’ll forever chastise myself for.”

"And the fact that we’re, you know, amazing,” the iron man put in. Disregarding the jape, I pinched the bridge of my nose and wrapped my hand around my stomach to stop its rolling, wondering what was to happen to me now.

Overwhelmed with my own anxiety, I was suddenly overcome with a flood of passion for Loki’s cause. I may not have contributed much and I may not have even known the true goal, but at that moment I could be arrested as a war criminal and possibly even executed for my crimes, judging by the magnitude of what I was devoted to. Due to that, everything I had been working for would be a waste. I would never know who had my father and if they had killed him, or what happened to my mother. Those who targeted them would remain strong, and possibly move onto another family and cause them world of grief. It was my responsibility to exterminate them, and I failed.

"Brother?" The blond man with armor similar in style and material to Loki’s motioned to me with his handsomely crafted hammer. "Where did you acquire this new companion?"

“That’s none of your concern,” Loki snapped. “She had hardly anything to do with any of this, so leave her be.”

I straightened against the wall, stunned that Loki was actually trying to protect me. The past hour had been a menagerie of uncharacteristic behavior.

"Well, where you got her doesn’t really matter now," the man in the iron suit stated, coming to where I stood against the wall and taking me by the bicep. I cringed at his choice of words and shrunk away from his grasp. "Because you two are going away."

"I'm taking you both back to Asgard," the blond man added. "It is the only place where we can keep people safe from you, and where you may face a fitting justice."

My feet shuffled beneath me, and I suddenly felt as if I would vomit and faint all at once. I recognized the name Asgard from my research and knew that it was an entirely different realm, located at a faraway point in space. I couldn’t possibly be trapped there for the rest of my life. I would never get out. What about my parents?

"Thor, you oaf, why must the girl go?” Loki argued. “She doesn't belong where we're from, and it’s not as if any of these actions were hers.”

"Her action of joining you without being forced to, unlike Barton, makes her worthy of the same punishment you are to receive," the man Thor replied calmly.

I may not have been forced, I wanted to scream, but could not find my voice, but I was threatened! Loki made it quite clear at the time that it was stay or die.

"Now, we're going out." The iron man let me go and picked up my discarded first aid kit, passing it to me, the force he put behind it causing the plastic to thump against my chest. "You're going to stay and clean up Rock of Ages over here, and then you're going buh-bye first thing in the morning."

The group pushed past me to enter the elevator and flashed Loki hateful looks as they descended, their presence soon replaced by two armed guards. My breath hitched in my throat as I tried desperately to calm myself and ignore the fear growing within me, for the last thing I wanted to do was have a panic attack in front of Loki.

There’s still a way out of this, I told myself. You’ll just tell them what happened to get you to join, and they’ll let you go free. Surely they won’t hold you unjustly.

Collecting myself with a deep sigh, I settled down next to Loki. What seemed to be hours passed in silence, Loki struggling to push himself higher up on the stairs as I began to rid the floor of debris and create a small pallet of blankets to lower him down upon so that he could be somewhat comfortable while I cared for him. When he was situated, I pulled a package of medicated wipes from the kit and began to remove the dirt from a collection of cuts on his hand, my heart racing as his fingers twitched and wrapped around mine for a split second. As I worked, I could feel his eyes intensely on me, and I was so focused on the feeling that I startled when he spoke.

“Why did you stay?” he murmured. “You knew that doing so would damn you for life. You were under the impression that I was mind controlling you into doing so, which is why you didn’t run away a few days ago. Why didn’t you leave when I told you that you could?”

“I know now that you weren’t mind-controlling me. There was just some morbid part of me that wanted to stay.” I shrugged, though my reeling anxiety made the motion look more like a twitch than anything else. “I think what kept me around the organization was the urge from deep inside of me to find knowledge and have a life that’s more meaningful and warm than my purgatorial one on the run. Maybe that urge was fate talking, abnd it frightens me a bit to think that I could have a fate that’s tied to you.”

“Rightly so. As you can see, it’s already backfired.” Loki chuckled mirthlessly. “I’m afraid I’ve cost you that warm and meaningful life.”

“I don’t know about that,” I squeaked in an attempt to convince myself even more than him. “I’ll talk myself out of it. I’ll explain that even though I wasn’t mind-controlled, I was still very well forced to join your cause, and hope that with the evidence they’ll find me innocent and let me go.”

“And you’re confident you can persuade them to do that?”

“Yeah. Of course.” I pulled my hands away so he wouldn’t notice them shaking, reaching for some antibiotic ointment. “And even if I can’t, it’s not like I have much of a life to stick around for, anyway. I just worry about my parents. If I left, there would be no one to find them and save them from whatever horrors they’re going through. But who am I kidding? It’s been five years. They’re probably dead. That’s the only logical thing to think. The only reason I haven’t believed it is because it’s the only thing that kept me going all this time. Without that drive, my life is meaningless. I have nobody.”

“No. Don’t give up hope.” Loki suddenly seized my hand in his, but I was so startled that I jerked away. Afterward, I regretted it and wanted to reach out and take his, but was too nervous to do so.

“I find it so endearing that after all these years, you’re still going,” Loki continued. “Your love for your parents has kept all three of you alive. Love is a drive like no other. Someday I hope I know what it’s like to be so passionate for at least one person."

"You will, Loki," I insisted with a sudden vigor, squeezing my eyes shut to fight the image of a buxom, doe-eyed lover by his side, the two unable to keep their hands off of each other, making an ethereally gorgeous and radiant couple. I was unsure why the picture came to my head, and I was unsettled at how much it bothered me. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat and resumed.

“They’ll steal your heart and make you fall head over heels in love. They’ll be the center of your universe and nothing else will ever matter.”

In a sudden bout of strength, Loki pushed himself from his half-reclining position and sat upright, face within inches of mine, his eyes flitting from mine to my lips. My breath hitched in my throat as his nose brushed against mine, and this time I didn’t jerk away.

“How can you be so sure?” he murmured, his cool breath on my face causing my skin to erupt in gooseflesh.

"I-I believe in fate," I gasped, my voice trembling. "Everyone has a perfect match; a soulmate."

My words hung in the air for a moment, and suddenly Loki was leaning towards me, his head arced down towards mine, his hand sliding around my waist. Before he could make contact, however, I scurried backwards, miming a sneeze as my heart unexpectedly sank and I noticed the startled hurt in his eyes.

“Excuse me,” I squeaked, pretending to wipe my nose before bending down to pick up the used disinfectant wipes. “I’ll just go throw these away. I’ll be right back.”

I took off in pursuit of a trashcan, but once I rounded the corner and was out of Loki’s eyeshot, I slid down the wall and to the floor, blowing hair from my face. One situated, I drew my knees up to my chest and buried my face in my hands, wondering where this sudden attraction for each other came from, and why I so sorely regretted it every time I pushed him away.

***

The last sky I saw was a good one to end everything with.

After I ran away from Loki, I stayed in the other room as long as socially acceptable. When I was able to force myself to return and finish cleaning him up, thankfully he said nothing else, and we sat in silence until the Avengers arrived at dawn. The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, surrounded by rich rosy oranges that blended into a dark indigo in which stars were still visible. It was otherwordly, and I supposed it foreshadowed where I was to go.

Thor fitted a muzzle over Loki’s mouth and fettered both of us at the wrists and ankles, an experience that was quite possibly the most humiliating one of my life. Once we were chained, he led us and the Avengers to a deserted entrance in Central Park, parading us around the destruction on the city. My heart dropped as the reality of what was happening to me set in, and I bit back tears. I had been so concerned the entire time about what would happen to my parents with me away, but as we walked I started to worry about what would happen if they somehow did happen to escape. They would come looking for me, and when they inevitably didn’t find me they would think I had been captured, too. My family was caught in an endless circle, and that concept gave me a clear idea of what hell must be like.

All too soon, we reached a large patch of concrete to stop at, and I used all of my effort to calm my fear, though the chains about my wrists shook audibly from it. They only quieted when Thor reached out to connect them to Loki’s, then turned to retrieve an ornate capsule with a glowing blue cube in it from Erik Selvig, the device radiating so much light that it hurt to look at. I deduced that the cube was the Tesseract, the thing Loki had been so determined to use to achieve world domination. It was definitely bright, but I still had trouble fathoming that such a small thing was capable of so much.

Thor held one end of the capsule and gestured for Loki to do the same, then turned his handle to the side with a jerk. The world around us was suddenly nothing but streaks of color, the ground under our feet seemed to vibrate before dropping out completely, an unfathomably strong force of upward winds surrounded us, and suddenly we were floating, spinning out of control at an alarming rate.

When my feet met something solid again, it was with a painful thunk. I dared to raise my eyes and saw that I was in a lavish corridor with walls of alabaster and gold, crouching before open doors leading to an enormous gallery headed by wide, engraved steps preceding a boxy throne. A weary-looking man with a golden eyepatch and golden armor sat upon it, clutching a handsome three-tipped spear. If I had any doubt left in my mind about Asgard and magical forces being real, they were completely dashed at the sight of it all and our method of getting there.

My observations were unfortunately no more extensive than that, however, because the moment we all got our bearings, Thor detached my chains from Loki’s and pulled me forward.

“Your trial is first,” he intoned, and my heart jumped to my throat in frightened hope. That was my chance to be set free, though I knew I absolutely had to say the right things, for if I failed, I would be a prisoner forever.

Thor me into the room and across the vast distance to the steps, instructing me to kneel before the throne, a cumbersome deed whilst twisted in my fetters.

The man I assumed to be the king heaved a disgusted sigh that echoed across the expansive gallery. "Words cannot describe how disappointed I am in him," he muttered under his breath before raising his voice to address me. "But, now it is the girl's turn to be sentenced.”

My form began to tremble once again and I kept my eyes averted to the floor as I whimpered: “Would you like for me to begin telling you my case?”

“I’m not interested in your pleading. I’m far too weary for that. I have guards here to take you.” The king gestured vaguely to a corner, where two armored men stood at attention. I forgot any notion of respect as I jumped to my feet and erupted in tears, my entire form rattled with the most intense panic I had ever felt, every seam in my body bursting to scream that this couldn’t be happening.

“You don’t understand!” I screeched. “Please, just listen to me! I didn’t do anything!”

“You were involved in Loki’s cause, which makes you guilty. You must be punished.” The king said in an even voice, completely unfazed by my outburst.

“I wasn’t there willingly! I may not have been mind-controlled, but-”

The king raised a hand to silence me. “If you weren’t mind-controlled, that means you saw and retained information about Asgard, other worlds, and non-Midgardian artifacts, which makes you a liability, so I cannot let you leave. Guards, please hurry with her. My head aches and her tone isn’t helping.”

The two men approached, emotionless and unyielding as they seized me roughly under my arms, dragging me away. Though I knew my attempts would be in vain and that my fate was sealed, I thrashed and kicked, screaming and pleading. I was able to free my arm from one, but another hand soon took the previous one's place, holding my arms down by my side in an iron grip similar to that of a straitjacket, and a slap across my cheek silenced my voice.

I was shoved down multiple dimly lit staircases and taken into what I assumed was the dungeon of wherever I was, whimpering and sniffling all the while. But instead of throwing me in one of the surprisingly clean, glass-walled cells, the guards took me into a private chamber in the very back of the hall, where they chained me to the a post, my face pressed against the splintered, unvarnished wood.

Before I had time to process what was going on, the back of my jacket was ripped open with the cool steel of what seemed to be a sword and a whip cracked against my skin, eliciting a shriek from my lips. I felt my skin tear and splay open, a burning sensation crawling over the entirety of my form. Tears were already leaking from my eyes, and I couldn't believe my weakness in the embrace of the pain, spurred on only by my panicked despair.

I couldn't even catch my breath before the whip lashed at me me again. A stifled shriek slipped from between my clenched teeth, and I bit my tongue until blood flooded into my mouth. I slammed my eyes shut and began to count, trying to concentrate on something that would dull the pain that seemed eternal.

Forty lashes later. the guards unchained and dragged me, only half conscious, on my wounded back to a cell. They had been unsettlingly emotionless the entire time, displaying neither relish nor regret. I was again shackled, that time to a corner, but I didn’t care, for I was simply thankful I wasn't being whipped anymore. Once the guards left and the seemingly enchanted glass was sealed, pulsing with energy and flashes of golden runes, I leaned against the edge of my holdings, but gasped and pulled back, for the pain was too great to remain doing so.

A glance over my shoulder revealed that a patch of the stark white wall was now a glistening crimson. I drank in a shuddering breath and allowed myself to sob, my head resting on my knees, wondering why on Earth they did that to me. My mind was too muddled to really dwell on that thought or even my fear any longer, for all I could do was chant to myself that at least the whipping was over.

But little did I know that my torture sessions were far from being over.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whump city. If you're squeamish, beware, because there's a fairly graphic depiction of wounds in this one. Enjoy!

Loki was finally tossed into a spacious corner cell, the protective spellwork meant to seal him in taking effect immediately. After a considerable amount of time under house arrest in his childhood chambers whilst the Allfather solved the riddle of his adopted son’s fate, the false Odison was brought for a second trial and condemned to spend eternity in the dungeon, cut off permanently from anyone he cared about, one being the key word.

He moved to crumble upon his narrow bed, a luxury he had not been expecting, thoughts of how he could keep himself sane in exile, separated from his one supporter, muddling his mind and drawing an ache from between his eyes. He supposed that his punishment wasn't anything he shouldn't have expected from a creature as vile as Odin, but the blow still stung.

Loki had just pulled himself up to begin his eternal pacing across the cell when he heard the harsh clink of chains from a dimly lit and well-hidden corner behind the thin sliding wall meant to provide privacy whilst bathing. He turned to seek out the culprit of the sound, and discovered a dark figure kneeling in the shadows.

"Excuse me?" He demanded, disgusted that he wasn’t even given a private cell. "Is someone there?"

The chains sounded again, and the figure inched forward; long, tangled tresses shielding the face of what he assumed to be a woman.

"Lift your chin," Loki commanded. "Show yourself."

The woman's dark yet not quite black hair swayed back and forth to indicate that she was shaking her head no. She obviously didn't want to be seen, for whatever reason.  
"If you won’t allow me to see you, at least reveal your name. It appears as if we’ll be sharing a cell until we die, after all. It would benefit us be acquainted."

The woman shook her head once again.

Loki, with irritation rising in his belly, dropped down beside her and forced her chin towards the light, but his grip immediately loosened as her face was revealed. The woman, barely old enough to be called so, stared up at him with pleading eyes the color of coal. Dirt was smudged across her pale forehead and her cheeks were hollow, bones jutting out like those of a skeleton. Her already thin frame showed all the signs of starvation and the back of her shirt was ripped apart, displaying deep, jagged cuts that seemed to come from a whip. A great purple bruise was vibrant on her jaw, and, the most haunting thing of all, her full lips were sewn shut, streaks of dried blood standing out against the pallid skin of her chin and throat.

Loki’s brow furrowed as he continued to observe the girl. There was something hauntingly familiar about her enthralling eyes and the way she seemed to command attention, even when broken and cowering. That girl was someone he knew, but he simply couldn't procure her identity from his mind. After a few more moments of deliberating, he gasped softly.

"Camryn?" He whispered.

His cellmate nodded miserably, and yet Loki still had trouble believing it was her. It was so strange to see her with chin lowered and back hunched, when she usually stood with her nose in the air and her spine pin straight, giving off a haughty air that she never seemed to notice.

"This is all my fault," Loki claimed, suddenly affectionate towards the girl he had not seen for so long, though it was likely just relief at the fact that he would not be completely alone for eternity. "Why would they do this to you?"

Tears began to leak from Camryn's eyes and she slunk back into the shadows. Loki followed her, and lowered his voice to a gentler tone, hands raised as a show of good intentions.

"I’m going to take a look at the wounds on your back, alright? I'm not going to hurt you."

After a moment’s hesitation, she turned to face the wall, displaying her flayed spine to her companion.

Loki gently probed the wounds with his chilled fingertips. There was not a spot on her that was not an angry red, and hardly any of her uppermost layer of skin remained. Dirt and lint had slid into the deep crevices from the whip, and blood still dripped heavily from several spots.

As he slid his finger over a particularly deep gash, Camryn whimpered loudly and turned to him, partly so that her wounds would no longer be exposed, though also in the meagre hope of comfort from her cell mate.

"I'm so sorry," Loki lamented, taking hold of her clammy hand. Though the gesture was something Camryn craved after so much time with no companion other than pain, his tenderness still startled her.

As Loki finally took a lengthy account of the cell in his odd, unfamiliar feelings of remorse and worry, he noticed all of the items of comfort given to him, placed just out of Camryn's reach. Upon this discovery, Loki decided that it was a cruel tactic of the Allfather’s, placing her there to make certain that the fallen prince constantly felt the guilt from his actions, and Odin had succeeded in that.

Loki stepped over to the bed and retrieved one of the goosefeather pillows and a thick fleece coverlet, then returned to his companion. He placed the pillow on the cold floor and gently helped Camryn lay her head on it, arranging her chains so that they were not cutting into her bony frame, then draped the blanket over her shivering form.

Instead of returning to his own side in apathy like he would have done with any other prisoner, Loki positioned himself next to Camryn on the floor, holding and massaging her thin, pale hands, whispering apologies and questions of why this had happened to her. He wondered why he felt so compelled to care for her, but he had no trouble coming up with excuses. It his fault she was in that situation, so therefore he felt it was his responsibility to tend to her. She was mortal, after all, and Asgard, not a place she was meant to be, hadn’t treated her kindly. Besides, she had once done the same thing for him, when he had been defeated on Earth and injured by that brute the Hulk.

Feeling safe for the first time in weeks, it didn’t take long for Camryn to fall into a deep slumber, her small chest rising and falling weakly and rapidly. Loki stayed by her side for a few more minutes, as if to confirm that she wouldn’t perish in his absence, then went to mill about his cell, which appeared to be nothing more than a method to make him feel as terrible as possible.

While he was gifted with comfort and entertainment such as a small shelf of books and a mirror over a basin, Camryn got a dark, uncomfortable corner, chained to the wall. While he was given chairs to sit upon and stools for his feet, the unyielding marble floor was where she was doomed to stay. It frightened him how starved and injured she was, and he began to wonder if she would be able to live long enough to heal. In the back of his mind he still hoped that she was the hotheaded fighter that had the wisdom of the ancients if only she didn’t doubt herself.

An hour or so later, the shield of the cell burst apart and Camryn jerked awake, tears streaming down her face, her figure shaking from the nightmare that ravaged her sleep. Loki stayed by her side for a few moments, instinctively stroking her tangled hair to calm her, then went to meet the disgraced Einherjar that had been condemned to dungeon patrol.

"Your rations," the scrawny man-boy with ill-fitting armor announced. He thrust out a tray stacked with a tall pitcher of clean water and a steaming loaf of bread, along with a bowlful of berries. Loki glanced over the guard's rounded shoulder at what the other prisoners were being given: small mugs of gritty ale and charred, blackened bread. Loki was puzzled by the fact that he was being treated well for a prisoner, especially since his crimes were so much larger than the others in the dungeons, but didn't refuse the rations. He settled himself in a chair near the center of the room, picking at the bread thoughtfully.

It didn't take him long to notice Camryn staring at his food with longing eyes, tears running down her gaunt face and dripping onto the pillow. 

Loki sighed heavily at his stupidity. It had to be absolute torture for the girl to watch him eat with her own mouth sewn shut, especially since it appeared that she had not eaten enough to sustain her in quite a long period of time.

"How long has your mouth been sewn?" He eventually queried.

Camryn held up three long fingers.

"How long has it been since you've had anything to eat?"

She replied with five fingers.

"Are you provided with drinks every day, or only with meals?"

Panic flooded the girl's face as she desperately tried to figure out a way to reply, and Loki realized his mistake, hurrying to remedy it.

"If every day, at least before your lips were sewn, nod yes, if only with meals, shake your head no."

She nodded.

Camryn had not eaten anything in five days and had not had a drink in three, and paired with her wounds and sickness, it was a wonder she still had her wits about her; that she was even alive. Loki placed his forgotten food aside and rose to search the cell, eventually discovering a sharp, discarded rock left over from the construction of the dungeon, and judged that it would do.

He returned to Camryn's side, assisting her in sitting up and supporting her with a hand to her delicate neck. He slid the rock into the small space between the stitches and her lips, then began to try to cut it.

However, the stitches had been made with some sort of enchanted thread that glowed golden and only grew stronger in attempts to loose them, and Loki deduced that a certain blade was required to cut them. Nevertheless he continued to try, and tried he did until rivulets of fresh blood poured down Camryn's chin onto her chest and tears spilled from her eyes.

Loki wiped her cheeks with his thumb and gripped her hand before stepping over to the taunting window to reality and commanded the attention of the nearest guard.  
"What do you want?" The short, stocky man drawled, clutching his weapon tightly.

"The woman in my cell is going to die if the threads on her lips are not cut and she is not unchained. She has not eaten in five days, and she's so weak from her injuries that she can barely lift her head up. She is mortal and being tortured without reason other than just for the fun of it. Tell me, how does that reflect the views and reputation of the greatness and benevolence of Asgard? I demand that you come in here and release her at once!" When Loki finished his speech, he realized that his breathing had become heavy. Why was he so protective of Camryn? He was surely not falling in love with her. He couldn’t be. She was mortal, and after what he had been through he considered himself incapable of the feeling. Pushing those thoughts aside, Loki concluded that this behavior was just out of guilt for her situation, and the knowledge that it was his fault she was in it.

"I cannot do that," the guard replied in a gruff tone.

"And why not?"

"I have been given orders-"

"Listen, you oaf," Loki raised his voice and slammed his fist against the rune-weaved glass, but was interrupted by his mother entering the dungeon.

"Brutus?" She inquired with a gentle authority, one only she was capable of. "What is all this fuss about?"

"The prisoner wants the girl's threads cut and chains taken off," Brutus replied with scorn, but his head was bowed in obedience.

"And why has that created an argument?" Frigga continued.

"Because I can't cut her threads and chains," Brutus stated dumbly. “By order of the king, they’re to stay on.”

"Oh, nonsense." Frigga raised her hand, causing the cell’s barrier to fade away, and entered to approach Camryn, who was slumped over on the floor. Smiling sympathetically, Frigga produced a golden-bladed knife from the thick silver belt at the waist of her eggplant-colored gown.

"Hold still, now," she instructed. "Loki? Can you please come hold her?"

Loki obliged to joining the group and once again supported Camryn’s weak frame, joy swelling in his chest, despite all that had happened, at the event of a visit from the only person he had ever truly trusted in his life.

Frigga cut the threads with a clean and seemingly painless swipe of her blade, then procured a plain silver key to release Camryn from her shackles.

"I'm so sorry they did this to you," she whispered, kissing the girl's cheek. "I tried to talk my husband out of what happened to both of you." She ran her hand down the length of her son's face, regarding him with a mournful expression in her sapphire eyes despite the sweet smile on her lips, then returned to her feet. "I'll be back, despite what Odin has ordered. That I promise you. I regret not being able to remain longer, but I must leave and take care of some things before word travels that I’m here."

Loki bid his mother a hasty goodbye, used his sleeve to wipe the remaining blood from Camryn's lips, then held his cup to her mouth. She drained it quickly and he used a simple spell to refill it, again letting her gulp its contents down, the excess dribbling down her chin.

After she had drunk her fill, Loki gently lifted her up and carried her to the bed, helping her take a few bites of bread before rolling her over to tend to the wounds on her back.  
"Do your lips still hurt?" He questioned as he retrieved a length of thick, medicated bandage left by Frigga and wet it in the basin. Camryn’s spidery hands were clenched into fists around the blankets as he sponged the dirt from her wounds, thin blue veins protruding from her knuckles.

"Yes, quite a lot," Camryn replied, her voice cracking and horse, an octave higher than what Loki was used to hearing from her, and not near as powerful. "But at least I can eat and speak again."

"I'm sorry you ended up this way." Loki bit his lip briefly.

"I actually find this situation very interesting," Camryn admitted.

Loki’s eyebrow shot up in confusion. "How so?" 

"I've never seen you so kind. A few instances aside, you were never directly cruel to me, but you weren't ever extremely caring and gentle as you are now." Camryn studied him as best she could from her angle, measuring Loki’s reactive expression, which he made certain to keep blank to mask his own muddled emotions.

"It's my fault you're in this situation, so it is my responsibility to make sure you’re comfortable and well." Loki bound the wounds with the bandage and gave her one of his thin undershirts to wear over the ruins of her old uniform, the fabric dwarfing her.

"I never thought I would be so exhausted in my life," Camryn whispered as she dropped the subject of Loki’s behavior and instead stared tiredly into the distance, her usually sparkling eyes dull.

Loki chuckled lightly. "Then sleep."

Camryn bit her lip, then cringed and swore under her breath at the pain it caused. "I'm afraid I won't wake up. Or that when I do, I’ll be back in that room, chained to a post."

"Don't worry." Loki pulled the covers up to her chin, a sudden protective instinct washing over him. "I'm right here. I'll keep you safe."


	7. Chapter 7

Loki didn't sleep that night. All he did was perch rigidly in a chair next to the bed where Camryn laid, his gaze alternating between the slight, shallow movement of her chest to her face. After a while he realized that she reminded him of one of the porcelain dolls that so many of the young palace girls would play with when he was a child, though this one was rather neglected by her owner. 

Her hair, darkened to a shade just shy of black during her time in captivity, was streaked with dirt and blood, yet still fell gracefully around her form, falling to the tip of her hipbones. If her eyes were not closed, they would be wide and doe-like, in all shades of brown and black yet seemed red if one got close enough, and have a fierce yet hopeful expression. Her skin was so lily white that the stains of her torture and captivity were only that much more vivid, and Loki had tried to sponge them away without waking her. Her face had lost the little roundness of youth that it had when he knew her on Midgard, her cheekbones jutting out at sharp, steep angles. And last of all was her lips, her plump, pale lips, surrounded by scabs and blood that would tell her entire story upon a glance.

She was obviously having nightmares about her past torture, for she would suddenly begin to tremble and cry out, then inch across the bed as if she was running from something. During those times, Loki would gently pull her back to the center of the mattress so she wouldn't fall off, then speak to her in a soothing tone until she calmed. His experiences before coming to Earth to execute his plans for domination had softened him; made him more compassionate towards victims of torture, especially when he was responsible for her state.

When her nightmares inevitably roused her, she jerked upright, an earsplitting scream resounding through the cell and waking the other prisoners in the spacious dungeon, causing them to approach the glass of their own cells and bang against it irritation.

"What is it?" Loki inquired gently, ignoring the onlookers and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Camryn shook her head furiously, her whole body trembling uncontrollably. Before he know what he was doing, Loki had pulled her onto his lap. He softly pushed her head onto his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her lower back, the one spot on her that wasn't coated in lashes. She continued to sob, her hands clenched into fists and resting against his chest as she grappled at the fabric there. Loki wondered why he held her like that and through her distress Camryn wondered why she liked it so much, but neither made any motion to move.

"What was it?" Loki whispered in her ear once again, stroking her tangled hair. "Can you tell me?"

Camryn sucked a shaking breath in through her nose and wiped the wetness from her cheeks. "I-It was the day I got this." She pointed to the large mark on her cheek.

"I've been meaning to ask." Loki lightly brushed the bruise with his fingertips, measuring the shadow against palm. "Who did that to you?"

"It doesn't matter," Camryn replied in an unexpectedly sharp and biting tone, ducking her head so that her hair fell about her face, concealing the mark. However, she still made no move to leave Loki’s lap.

"Yes, it does." Loki tipped her chin up with his index finger and stared into her eyes with an expression so intense it burned. "Which guard did that to you?"

Camryn's voice became barely audible. "It wasn't a guard at all."

"What do you mean by that?" Loki demanded, reaching for her hand and gripping it tightly in his own. For a moment, Camryn forgot his passionate queries and stared down at their interlocked fingers, expression morphing into that of confusion at the gesture of affection.

As he had watched her through the night, Loki reevaluated his feelings, and stopped denying the fact that he was slowly but surely falling hard for Camryn. Ever since he captured her in the streets of New York City, he had a deep attraction to her, though he had no time then to dwell on it. And seeing her after months, in a situation where he saw a completely different side of her, that infatuation turned to a tender, early form of romantic love. He needed to know who had been hurting her all this time so he could achieve vengeance in her name.

Camryn's lip began to tremble. Eventually, after several moments of long, measured breaths, she answered. "Odin. Odin hit me."

Loki’s arms tightened around her. "Why would he do that to you?"

Her voice shook and cracked. "I'm not quite sure. About a week ago, he came down to the torture chamber, acting almost as if he were in some sort of trance, convinced that the guards weren't doing their job right. He slapped me across the face and grabbed the whip, beating me until I passed out from the pain. The guards dragged me back to the cell, and that’s when the food stopped coming. This went on for three more days, and then two guards came in and sewed my mouth, saying that he told them to tell me that he was sick of hearing my disrespectful backtalk and that I should be punished for it." She paused, placing her hands over her eyes and sobbing. "And the worst part is that the guards were upset about it. They didn't want to do it. They didn’t think it was right. Odin forced them to."

"Oh, Camryn," Loki mused. "I’m so sorry. Odin is punishing you for my doings as a way to make me feel guilty. I’m entirely responsible for everything that’s happened to you.”

“No, you’re not,” she insisted, drying the last of her tears. “None of what happened to me is your fault. You didn’t pick up a whip and start beating me.”

“But it’s because of me that you’re in this situation,” Loki argued gently, then sighed and sat back in the chair both of them currently occupied. “How can you be so forgiving with me, after all I’ve done?”

Camryn shrugged. “For a while, I’ve had a suspicion that you weren’t the head of your organization, and that you were working for someone else. To me, that explained why you wouldn’t tell me anything, because you didn’t know, yourself. And right after you were smashed into the floor and probably given a concussion, your eyes went from that unnatural blue to green, and you started acting different. You went from brash and abrasive to gentle and...well, almost playful. I thought then that you must’ve been slightly under control of the Tesseract, just like your mind slaves. Not completely, but enough to make a difference. Don’t misunderstand me, I don’t think you’re blameless, but I do think there’s more to the story. I had more to mine and wasn’t given the opportunity to tell it, and look where I am now. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give someone else the opportunity to tell theirs?”

Loki inhaled sharply and stiffened, taken aback by Camryn’s accuracy. However, her words brought back horrendous memories he wasn’t yet ready to process, and he drilled his eyes shut to block them.

“You’re entirely correct, but you’ll have to forgive me,” Loki said in a strained voice. “I don’t think I’m ready to tell anyone about my side just quite yet.”

“That’s alright. It was extremely hard for me to have to reminisce about this, so I understand.” Camryn gestured to her back, then started to crawl back over into the bed. The intimacy between her and Loki was thrilling, but confused her, and she needed more time to process everything before giving into it completely.

“I guess I’ll just have to trust you,” she decided, burrowing under the covers.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think that’s a wise idea?”

“No. I don’t.” Her eyes were already closed, and her lips curved upward in a coy yet soft smile. “But I’m going to, anyway.”

***

The moment the lights in the dungeon were raised, signaling morning, a guard drove his Einherjar-issued spear into the cell’s runic shield, causing it to burst open momentarily. Loki huffed in annoyance, for he had finally managed to drift off into sleep in his chair, and the noise roused him.

Loki collected the rations from the guard and returned to Camryn’s bedside, where she had also awoken and was propping her head up against her hand. He arranged the pillows in a way that she could lay back yet still be sitting upright, and held out the fresh loaf of bread.

"Here. You need something to eat." Loki slid it into her relaxed hand.

"So do you." Camryn broke the loaf in half and extended one towards Loki, but he pushed it back at her.

“I haven’t been starved for the past three moons." Loki allowed a smile to tug at the corners of his lips as he pushed it away once more.

"Whatever you say." Camryn grinned back, her hunger triumphing over her hospitality as she sunk her teeth into the bread.

As she reached for the jug of water, the cell was infiltrated once again, interrupting the light conversation that had just begun to circulate.

"What now?" Loki groaned, peeling himself from his seat to face the intruder, yet didn’t move from the bedside.

"You have a visitor," a guard announced, though it was a different one than he who had delivered their rations. Loki recognized him as Birger Bjarkeson, one of Frigga’s secret service, and his attitude changed entirely. 

"Her Majesty wishes to see you whilst the king is otherwise occupied," Birger continued.

"Her presence is most welcome,” Loki replied. "Send her in."

Birger nodded in obedience and moved from the doorway, Frigga taking his place.

"How are you feeling?" Friga inquired, approaching the bed where Camryn perched.

"Much better, thanks to Loki." Camryn instinctively reached out for his hand, surprising herself with the intimate, comfortable gesture.

“I’m so glad.” Frigga beamed. “There was a time when Loki would have done whatever he could to get as far away from you as possible, no matter how injured you were, so it’s refreshing to see him be so kind. That behavior is much closer to the way I raised him.”

Loki ducked his head, heat creeping up his neck at the pointed look Frigga gave him, feeling like a child for the first time in years.

Frigga used her seidr to conjure a chair and settled down, chatting with Camryn and Loki for nearly an hour. The topics of conversation were light and didn’t concern anything overly important, but it was refreshing for both prisoners to feel as if they were anywhere but a cell for a few minutes. Birger came to retrieve Frigga for a charity event all too soon, but before she left, she requested to speak to Loki alone. He trailed behind her to the opposite side of the cell, and could barely opan his mouth before she captured him in that tight, warm embrace only mothers were capable of.

“Even though I think you need to be punished for what you’ve done, it kills me to see you like this,” Frigga murmured. “But the way you’ve treated Camryn gives me hope that the sweet boy I once knew is still within you. Thank you for giving me that to hold onto.”

“I’m glad I could, Mama,” Loki whispered, his words barely audible, the conflicting emotions roused by memories from his childhood bringing tears to his eyes that he furiously blinked away.

Frigga cupped his cheek for a moment, heart swelling with love and bittersweet nostalgia as Loki’s vulnerable expression made him appear a quiet, gentle child once again, then tipped her head towards where Camryn was sitting.

“I see that you care deeply for her,” she observed.

“I do.” Loki turned his gaze to Camryn, watching her as she thumbed through one of his books with eyes widened by fascinated delight. “It upsets me to my core that she’s been hurt, and not just because she was put here to make me feel guilty and is succeeding in that. For the first time in a long while, my feelings towards someone aren’t selfish. They’re not crafted and controlled to benefit me in some way. Her state upsets me because I care about her. For once, this isn’t about me.”

Frigga closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her happiness almost overwhelming her.

“I am so incredibly glad and proud that you’ve found someone to care for like that. I beg you, though, please don’t lose her. Your life ahead holds many trials, and if you let her, she can be your saving grace, and you, hers.”


	8. Chapter 8

I watched intently as Loki saw Frigga out of the cell and then stalked back to my bedside with halting steps, expression revealing that he was lost deep within a sea of his own thoughts.

"What was that about?" I inquired in the hopes to break the reverie, moving my mouth as little as possible. My lips still hurt like hell when I spoke, but I knew I would never get used to the pain if I coddled myself.

"Nothing important." Loki mumbled absentmindedly, settling down on the edge of the bed, hand snaking to where mine rested above the thick blanket. The gesture sent a rush of calm and security over my body, and I found myself squeezing his palm as tightly as I could without it seeming like I was trying to break it, never wanting him to pull away. He'd been such a kind caregiver, and I had to admit to myself that I was even more attracted to him than I had been when working for his "cause.” I felt as if I was actually falling for him, for he seemed far more vulnerable, and trusted me with a side of himself I knew he had only shown a very select handful of beings in his entire life, however long that may have been.

"You’re starting to look much better," he concluded with the smallest of smiles. “Your skin isn’t so ashy anymore.”

"Well, aren’t you a charmer?" I teased, lifting his hand off the bed to match my own up with it, palms pressed tightly together. I had always considered myself to have long hands, but in comparison to his, they seemed to belong to a child.

"That’s very amusing." Loki’s smile bloomed across his face as he curled the tips of his fingers up over mine. "But you must be getting better, seeing that you’re able to make jokes."

"Eh, I’m always able to make jokes." I curled my lip and waved my free hand dismissively. “I have a very morbid sense of humor.”

"Ah, but where was that sense of humor when you were so desperately clinging to me that first night? When you had to relent to me, and ask you to save your life?" He leaned in and predatorily whispered the last few words in my ear, though when he pulled back and smiled, I knew he was making a joke of his own.

"I was too tired to come up with anything." I shrugged nonchalantly, then gave his shoulder a light shove. “And stop it with your melodrama. I never asked you to save my life. I still would’ve survived if you hadn’t come around. Besides, I never clung.”

“That was a mere jest, pet. Don’t take it so literally.” Loki swung his feet onto the bed and reclined languidly against the pillow, draping his arm around my shoulders. His voice dropped to a whisper once again. "And I wouldn’t expect you to make jokes in that state, nor would I have enjoyed hearing them at the time. I don't like you being hurt. It's just as torturous for me as it is for you, seeing as it’s my fault. I know many people I would wish that and worse on, but you are by no means one of them."

I supposed the declaration should’ve still confused and startled me, but it instead made my heart swell so much I feared it would burst out of my chest, sending heat out the tips of my fingers and toes. Needing to have some outlet for the feeling, I wiggled closer to Loki, engulfing myself in his icy warmth. He wrapped his other arm about the front of my torso and laid his head on top of mine as I hesitantly rested it upon his shoulder, and we sat there, still as statues, for what seemed to be hours.

***

Even though we had stayed that way all night, both slipping in and out of sleep periodically, when Loki pulled away and strode to the opening of our cell, it was too soon.

"What are you doing?" I asked, voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Rations," he replied, collecting the bread and water, then returning to my side. "Strange. There's a different guard handing them out today; a very young one. It’s impossible for even half of his training to be completed."

"There's all different guards today, though they seem to just be gaolers and turnkeys. I watched what was going on when I wasn’t sleeping. And the numbers have dropped, as well. Everything changed last night. By what I could hear and read on their lips, they were preparing for battle, and required all trained fighting men present elsewhere." I kneaded the blankets over my aching legs, mouth watering at the scent of the bread.

"I wonder what realm my oaf of a brother vexed this time." Loki rolled his eyes, eliciting a slight giggle from my lips as I found found the gesture extremely immature yet hopelessly attractive on him.

"And I thought you were the one who couldn't keep yourself out of trouble, based on what I’ve heard," I teased.

"Believe it or not, before my failed conquest, I was always the one cleaning up Thor's messes. I wouldn't be surprised if he comes here, begging me for help as if we were teenagers again."

"Has he ever visited you? Your brother?" My gentle wonderings changed course, and I uttered the question to my hands.

Loki stiffened, his shoulders hunkering and his head turned away from me as it always was when I asked something uncomfortable. When he spoke, it was with a faraway, strained quality. 

"Once, during the house arrest I was put under whilst Allfather determined my fate. But he only came for a dutiful reason: interrogation. He seemed soulless. He spoke in a monotone and couldn’t stand to look me in the eye."

I bit my lip, flinching slightly at the pain the gesture caused. If I were in Loki’s situation, I would have wished that my brother would scream, hit me, weep; show any relative form of emotion. Instead, Thor had simply displayed that he was beyond caring and had given up, and because of that I truly felt sorry for Loki. I placed my hand gently on his arm and used the other to turn his face towards mine.

"I want you to listen to me, alright? Thor doesn't matter. Do you hear me? Just like you care about me, I care about you, and incredibly so. I don't know if I would be able to stand it if you were the one laying in this bed with gashes on your back and scabs on your lips instead of me." My breathing became heavy, and I furiously blinked to keep pesky tears at bay, letting go of Loki’s cheek to swipe at my eyes before a single one could fall. "You have my care and affection, not to mention support. Thor doesn't matter so much if you have me, right? I’d like to think I’m a somewhat adequate replacement."

Loki placed his palms over mine and nodded solemnly, staring me down for as long as he dared before averting his gaze to the rumpled pillows. “You’re far more than adequate. You’re the best substitute I could’ve asked for.”

***

Another week passed, and I was healing well. A few days after my "I care about you" speech, Loki deemed me well enough to leave my bedrest to mill about the cell, though he followed close behind with his hand around my waist for safety precautions should a bout of weakness overcome me. At night he slept while I used his chest as a pillow, and he tended to my wounds twice a day with extraordinary care. But despite our intoxicating connection, we still hadn't had any sort of romantic advancement, and our physical interactions seemed to become more and more platonic each day, as if we were close friends instead of potential lovers. I began to worry that this meant that Loki only saw me as a little sister instead of one to have a relationship with, and I felt my heart slowly breaking.

To distract myself and find entertainment in the confines of a cell, I took close care in observing my surroundings. The guards continued to be replaced by younger and scrawnier recruits; young boys obviously still in training. Frigga began to visit us at least every day, and when I asked about the change in the dungeon roster, she explained to us that a group called the Dark Elves was causing dispute and disorder with an apocalyptic situation, and when Thor's mortal lover, Jane Foster, was infected with the Elves' true focus, the Aether, Thor bought her to Asgard to protect her.

"I find it extremely difficult to believe that Odin allowed Thor to bring a mortal to Asgard," Loki ranted. "That’s unheard of and has been considered a forbidden act for millennia.”  
"Hey!" I interrupted, hoping to lighten the heavy, fear-filled mood of the conversation. "I'm a mortal."

"But according to Odin, you committed a crime worthy of an immortal. Your situation is different." Loki crossed his arms over his chest, speaking exclusively to his mother once more. "That just brings more clarity to the fact that Odin has favored Thor all of our lives.

Frigga pursed her lips. "Loki-"

"Don't tell me you never saw it," Loki pressed.

"Loki, please. I don't want to argue. I just wanted to make sure that you and Camryn are doing well." When Frigga reached over to place a calming hand on Loki’s shoulder, I noticed that she was wearing a bit of armor about her waist and shoulders, over the fabric of her gown. It seemed that everyone was preparing for a battle, even the queen. With that, it once again struck me how different the society I lived in now was from the one I grew up in.

Loki pouted, wrenching free of her touch and striding to the opposite corner of the cell. He barely got halfway before turning to point out a true guard, not a gaoler, sprinting towards the cell, golden armor clanging with each stride.

"My queen?" He panted, halting before the glass, a sheen of sweat evident even in the eerie lighting of the dungeon.

"Yes?" Frigga answered, the absolute picture of calm.

"The Elves have invaded the palace. I was told to inform you that Odin wishes for you to watch over the mortal woman, and the Aether."

Frigga bit her lip, drawing in a preparatory breath. "All right, then." She embraced me and then Loki, kissing his cheek, then hastened from the cell.

"She'll be alright," Loki declared to fill the gaping hole made by her absence, more to himself than to me, poorly masking his fear. "She's a wonderful fighter. She’ll be safe."  
A few tense hours passed in pregnant silence until a fresh guard no older than thirteen or fourteen approached the cell and instructed me to follow him in a tone that did not yet show authority.

"Where are you taking me?" I inquired.

"We were given orders by Her Majesty before the battle to take you to get cleaned up upon its end," the boy replied without much confidence, obviously intimidated by me. He broke the screen of the cell with a clumsy maneuver of his staff, and though Loki nodded his approval for me to follow, his expression was still dubious.

"What was the outcome of the battle?" I pressed.

"We do not know yet. Our forces were able to push the Elves out of the palace, but are still in combat, though the enemy has begun its retreat, starting with their leader. Only Prince Thor has returned from the field, to inquire after the safety of Lady Jane." The boy lead me up a hidden stairwell, tucked behind a bronze statue of some ancient king that marked the entrance to the dungeon.

"So, let me get this straight. Your people don't even know the outcome of an extremely important and deadly battle, and you're taking me to have a bath. Something isn’t right with that picture." I halted between the steps, suddenly afraid I had been pulled into a trap.

"Alright, look." Just before the boy opened a door at the top of the dank, moldy chamber, he turned to me. "I was ordered not to tell you this, but Prince Thor wished to speak with Prince Loki, and your presence at the conversation was forbidden. This was simply a way to get you out for a while."

When I expressed my satisfaction with the answer he gave, the boy shoved his shoulder against the withering oak and lead me down a dark and narrow hallway, the mood of the corridor reminiscent of the staircase, then into a small bathing room that I assumed was there for new prisoners to use before getting admitted, slamming the door behind me and positioning himself outside.

I approached the circular wooden tub that dominated the room and turned the largest knob to activate a large spout at the bottom of a short, wide drawer containing an assortment of different faucets, and hot water gushed out. I allowed the tub to fill completely before shedding my tattered clothes and gingerly stepping in, breathing sharply as the scalding contents licked my wounds.

As I laid there, the knots in my muscles unraveling, I toyed with the remaining knobs, seeing what spilled out of them. When I discovered the one that dispensed soap, I collected a generous amount on my palm and scrubbed the dried blood and dirt from my skin and hair, offhandedly wondering and slightly worrying about what Thor needed to speak to Loki about.

When I finally forced myself to step out of the heavenly bath, a luxury I thought I’d never experience again, and wrap myself in a thin towel, I discovered that a new outfit had been laid out for me on a chair in the corner: modestly tight black pants and a burgundy shirt, the sleeves hitting me just below the elbows. I changed gratefully and laced the new boots also provided, then returned to the boy so he could take me back down to my permanent confines. During my time in the cell, I had tried not to dwell so much on the fact that it was likely I would never see the outside of the dungeon again, for I still harbored a sliver of hope that I would someday escape somehow.

I was not prepared for what I saw when the child guard sealed me back into the previously luxury-filled cell. When we rounded the corner, I discovered that the once stark-white walls were now muddled with scuff marks, dark stains in the shapes of dragged handprints, and red blots from crushed berries, the bowl laying nearby, half-shattered. The floor was in no better state: every piece of furniture was splintered and cast aside onto it, pages of books were scattered like fallen leaves, and a trail of bloody footprints led to the one who created the mess.

Loki was slumping in the corner, seated atop a pile of glass with a deep gash cutting across the sole of his foot. He didn’t take notice of my entrance at all, and instead let out a heart-wrenching scream, then fell back and stared straight forward, unseeing, tears pouring from his eyes. That was a side of him I had never seen nor thought possible, and it frightened me to think what could’ve caused it.

"Loki?" I hesitantly approached and sank down next to him, casting a frustrated wave towards the guard when he didn’t immediately leave and give us privacy. I anchored my hands on either side of Loki’s face, forcing him to focus on me instead of the perimeter of the cell, attempting to pull him back to reality. "Loki, what happened? What did Thor say?"

"She's dead, Camryn," he whispered hoarsely, lips trembling. "Mother. She's dead."

His words hit me like a wall of bricks. I hadn’t known her for long, but it baffled me to think that Frigga wouldn’t come to the cell at any moment, scolding Loki for his fit. Tears stinging my own eyes, I rose up onto my knees and wrapped my arms around Loki's neck, allowing him to bury his head in my shoulder, heart-wrenching sobs rattling his lean figure. He sounded like some wounded animal, and the raw devastation radiating from him ate away at my core to the point where I began to tremble myself, tears flowing in thick, constant rivulets down my face. 

"I'm so sorry," I murmured, laying my head on top of his, unsure of what else to do or say. "I'm so, so sorry."

"She's gone," Loki moaned, clawing at my back in an attempt to draw me closer. His nails scraped painfully across my gashes, but I didn’t say a word, for I knew whatever he was going through was much worse than the sensation he was giving me.

"I'm here," I promised, stroking his hair and shushing him lightly. "I’m here, and I’m so sorry. I’ll find some way to give you privacy if you want to be alone."

Loki suddenly lifted his head, his half-crazed, red-rimmed eyes meeting mine. I startled as he moved his hands from my waist to my face, stroking my cheekbones lightly, staring at my face simultaneously as if he wasn’t really seeing me, and as if it was the first time he had witnessed another’s features. The pressure of his hands on my head increased as he leaned in slowly and dazedly, and my breath caught in my throat as I realized what he was doing.

His lips gently met mine, cold and hot at the same time, insistent for a split second before they went almost limp. A spark of shock jolted through me, so severe that I almost jerked away, wondering why in the world he would kiss me in the midst of all his grief. But those thoughts were banished from my mind as his lips began to move against mine, and all I could think about then was how much I liked the feeling. Instead, I responded by pulling him closer, letting my fingers tangle in his hair.

After a few strangely blissful moments Loki pulled away, his cool breath tickling my lips as he lowered his chin slightly so that his pale jade eyes were level with mine, still brimming with tears.

"Please," he begged, chest heaving with ragged breaths. "Stay."


	9. Chapter 9

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised, cradling Loki’s face between my hands with an almost desperate need, dragging my thumbs down his cheeks as if I could absorb his grief into my own being and relieve him from it with the action. “You know that.”

"I was afraid to let myself believe," he murmured against my lips before capturing them once more, gently this time, the connection sweet rather than passionate. Within only a few seconds, all of my reservation and confusion had slipped away, and all I wanted to do was get as close to Loki as possible, in every sense of the word. I let myself sink into the kiss for a few moments, then hummed into his mouth before pulling away, resting my forehead against his, mustering up an apologetic expression.

“I hate to break up this moment,” I began, “but your foot is bleeding pretty badly, and I ought to check it to make sure there’s no glass in the wound. Would you mind if I tended to it?”

Loki silently gave his approval, but as I moved to nudge myself back far enough to prop his heel up on my lap, his hands remained secured around my upper arms. I captured them in my own and gave his palms a reassuring squeeze before directing them to his lap so that I could have freedom of motion.

"Did Thor have anything else to say?" I inquired softly as I began to work, hoping to distract Loki from any pain that my doctoring might cause, as well as from his grief. Luckily, there was no glass lodged in the shallow wound, so all the medical attention required was a good clean and binding, well within my abilities. I would have felt better if I had some sort of antiseptic cream as well, but there was none in sight, so I had to make due with water we were meant to drink and a length of the extra bandage left behind for the lashes on my back.

All the time I worked Loki remained silent, seemingly ignoring my question. I considered uttering it once more as I finished and crawled into his lap, but didn’t have to, for as I laid my ear over his heartbeat, irregular in his distress and mourning, he wrapped his arm around my torso drew in a preparatory breath.

"He asked me to fight alongside him against the Dark Elves,” Loki declared in a small voice; one that seemed to belong to a completely different person. “He said you were welcome to join, too. It’s an expressly forbidden and highly confidential operation, so he needs all of the fighting hands he can get."

"Are you going to?" I questioned, tilting my chin back so I might gauge his facial reaction.

"He promised me vengeance for Mother if I agreed. That is an offer that I simply cannot refuse." At the mention of Frigga, his brave persona faltered, and he broke off a moment to compose himself. I considered encouraging him to openly grieve again, but I knew he would never comply, not with everyone in the dungeon now looking on. “As for your involvement, I will let you decide the extent of it. Nevertheless, you will be released from this cell whether or not you agree to fight. Thor may not be entirely fond of you, but he agrees that there is no reason for you to be imprisoned any longer.”

"And when will our release occur?" My voice dropped to a whisper, for I was afraid that if I spoke of it too loudly that it would cease to be true.

"The guards that Thor managed to rally to his cause are on their way now, I believe."

As if on cue, the telltale sound of armor hitting armor heralded the arrival of two gaolers, moving in such perfect unison it was as if they were programmed robots. They only broke synchronization when the one on the left thrust his spear into the glass of the cell to provide us an open path for exit, and they returned to their coordination as they turned and clinked back to their posts.

Reluctantly, I pulled myself up from Loki’s arms and assisted him finding his way to a standing position. He winced momentarily as his weight shifted over his injured foot, but made no other complaint as we linked hands and crossed out of our too-long-inhabited confines, his jaw clenched, my teeth digging into my tongue so hard blood began to flood my mouth.

When we stepped over the empty frame of the cell, I was almost lost for a moment, unsure of where to turn, afraid that if I took one step too far that I would soon be recaptured and tossed back into the cage. As an unfamiliar guard seemed to materialize out of nowhere to stand before us, my stomach leapt into my throat and I became almost positive that my fear was coming true. However, the man uttered a simple “Follow me,” and began to pace speedily in the direction opposite our cell. My heaved sigh of relief was noticed by Loki, and a squeeze on my palm relayed that he shared my anxiety, but was just more reluctant to openly admit it. With a renewed energy pulsing between us, we eagerly followed our guide out of the quietly lurid dungeon, deceptive in its clean design.

We were led into the same concealed staircase I walked that very morning to bathe, though this time we climbed much higher, the steps beginning to spiral around on their core and become very steep. Loki, with all his feline grace, traveled their course as if he was floating, and while I did not feel entirely comfortable, I did not falter. The guard, however, in all of his heavy, almost excessive, armor, had quite a bit of trouble, which slowed our trek considerably, only adding to the buzzing suspense to be truly free that coursed through my body. 

After what seemed to be an eternity, we reached the end of the staircase, which revealed only one door and no other side chambers. The standalone doorway was solid gold and glowed in the gloom, looking entirely comical against the moldy stone walls of the chamber. The guard instructed us to stay put as he continued on ahead, nudging the block of gold open a crack and peeking out. After concluding that our way was safe, he motioned for us to follow and we emerged into what seemed to be a private corridor of the palace, which felt like stepping into the sun after years of darkness.

It was deserted, as I was assuming the guard wanted it to be, but it only made it that much more beautiful. Each and every surface seemed to be built from gold, yet the nearest window was some hallways down, the dim lighting making the walls appear more bronze rather than the material they were truly forged from. There was not much ornamentation, though I figured that it was not needed if this truly was not a wing of the palace the public was permitted to frequent. However, a few tall, black braziers flanked either side of the corridor with perfect increments of space between them, the flames crackling comfortingly and giving the area a contradictory ominous glow, our shadows seeming to stretch on forever.

We continued down the hall until the guard ordered our halt between two ornately carved doors directly facing each other. The one on the left sported a design in the center that vaguely resembled Loki’s horned helmet, and it was he who was led into that one, whilst I was directed to the right, the door sporting no legible symbols that I could recognize, only a myriad of elegant, swooping curlicues.

Before entering, I turned so that I might watch Loki depart into his own chambers. It would be the first time we were truly separated in the weeks we reunited, and I had a strange sadness over the affair, even if he would only be mere feet away. However, the guard would not budge, making it clear that he could not complete his escort unless he was sure his secondary prisoner was securely locked away first. Reluctantly relenting, I placed both hands on the cool knob and turned it, and it required all of my bodyweight against the gold in order to open the door and push inside. However, when I beheld the chamber, I realized that the effort was worth it, for it was one of the most beautiful rooms I had ever seen.

I estimated that the area itself was at least four times the size of our cell, and furnished in enough gold to pay off every single national debt on Earth and still have some left over. A bed larger than any bed should be was centered against west wall, covered in thick goldspun sheets and blankets, and canopied with an elegantly layered length of velvet. Resting against the north wall was a sprawling golden vanity, the delicate frame of the oblong mirror inlaid with miniscule diamonds, emeralds, and rubies, glinting in the light emitted from a fireplace dominating the east wall. 

I approached the looking-glass with a trance-like attraction and studied my weary, unfamiliar appearance until I couldn’t take it any longer, then peeked into the dainty drawers, finding anything I could possibly need to make myself up, whether it be a ball or a battle. I ran my hand languidly across the crimson cushion as I passed over that piece of furniture, coming to a wide door residing just beside it, which would have blended into the wall were it not for its enormous mahogany knob. As curiosity bade me to enter, I realized that it was a walk-in wardrobe, containing a small assortment of each of the necessary categories, including gowns, shoes, cloaks, tunics, pants, and nightgowns, the garments so widely placed that a cushioned stool and stand-up mirror stood in the center in order for the wardrobe to double as a changing room.

Tired out with mirrors, I exited the closet and shut the door behind me, then stood facing the main door for a moment, contemplating something I so longed to do. Surely there would be no rule against it, so I complied to my own desires, approaching the door and poking my head out, taking note of two guards stationed on either side of the entrance to Loki’s chambers. Interested, I turned my gaze and was surprised to find that no guards flanked the entrance to my room. It was apparently no fib of Loki’s creation that Thor did not think I should be treated as a prisoner anymore.

Sneaking around even though it was virtually pointless to do so, I eased the door open and tiptoed into the corridor, keeping my eyes glued on the guards as I approached Loki’s chamber, feeling horribly exposed when they noticed me. The three of us engaged in a proper stare-down, but they made no move to stop my actions.

Eager to be away from watchful eyes, I rapped my knuckles against the door and Loki opened it almost instantly, as if he had been awaiting my arrival. He had changed back into his armor and his hair was neat, yet not slicked back as he usually styled it with that sort of garb. Upon seeing me, he flashed the guards a threatening look over my shoulder and wrapped a protective arm around my waist, ushering me into his chambers. 

His contained multiple rooms, and the entering one was wide and shallow, yet warmer and more inviting than I was expecting, presenting a crackling fireplace and overstuffed armchairs, along with a dining table and a wide assortment of bookshelves. However, we did not linger in there long, for Loki quickly led me off to the bedroom.

"Where these your old chambers before...you know." I asked, continuing to explore. The bedroom was furnished in gold as mine was, but this time with many accents of emerald green. The bed was even larger than the one given to me and covered in plush emerald blankets and pillows, wrinkled as if he had just sat on them. Another bookshelf, overflowing with volumes, was pushed against the wall, adjacent to a second fireplace, though this one was not burning. A chest of drawers was resting against the wall next to the entrance to his own wardrobe, and one of them was slightly ajar, a sliver of black fabric poking out. The room was neat, but it looked to have been lived in for quite a while, leading to my wonderings.

"For most of my life, yes. When I was a babe I slept in the nursery conjoined to my mother’s chambers, though when I learned to walk steadily I was transferred to my own area. However, Odin thought it preposterous for a little boy to have so much space, so the room you’re staying in was actually mine for a hundred years or so, until I was deemed old enough for proper chambers and it was converted into a room for guests. " Loki glanced around as if it was the first time he had ever seen the room. "Are you liking it here so far? The real Asgardian palace?"

"I am. It's so grand." I lowered myself down on the edge of the bed, but was not fully comfortable doing so until Loki joined me. "I just feel so terrible. You just lost the only person you ever cared about. You should be able to openly grieve without worrying about me or anything else, and I should be comforting you when you need me to do so."

"You are comforting me, simply by being by my side and providing your support. I’m never one to show my feelings in front of others, and being in front of others was the situation I’ve been in since I received the news. I am grieving, and will continue to heavily to so, but I am merely practiced at concealing it. However, you've gotten one thing wrong." He rose to his feet and helped me join him, keeping my hands trapped in his. "Frigga wasn’t the only person I care about. You should know that you are the other.”

I bit my lip, shaking my head and averting my eyes. "You don't have to say that."

“I may be the God of Lies, but with you I swear to always be truthful." He cupped my chin and tilted my head up to meet his mesmerizing eyes, so deep I felt myself slowly sinking into them. "I mean it. I do."

He kissed me again, and I flung my arms around his neck as I kissed him back with as much passion as I could muster, though it seemed as if I was incapable of properly translating how strong my newfound feelings were into my movements, my frustration only warranting me to kiss him harder.

"Are you alright?" He gently pulled away when he noticed a foreign wetness on his chin, and I realized that I had begun to cry softly. He searched my face with a concerned expression, his thumb gently wiping my tears away, and I wrapped my fingers around his wrist as he did so, leaning into his touch until I feared his arm would give out and drop me.

"I feel like I can’t properly express what I feel towards you. It’s as if there’s this fire in my chest, yearning and splaying itself out to find you, but it never can seem to reach you. It doesn’t help that I’ve suppressed it so long in the fears that my feelings were wrong or not reciprocated." I pressed myself closer to him, burying my face in his shoulder when my words began to embarrass me. He merely chuckled, though the sound was solemn, his arms folding tightly around my waist until his hands made a full circle and met his elbows. I felt his heartbeat against my chest, and that fire reached out for him once again, seeming to burn straight through me.

“That feeling is called love, my dear,” he murmured, pulling me so close I thought for a moment he was trying to absorb my form into his. He said no more, but he didn’t need to, for I could sense a warmth just where his heart was, and I knew his fire was reaching for mine just as mine was for his.

***

Later that evening, Loki, after assuring me that his reasoning in no way involved his feelings for me, had requested to spend the night by himself. I knew that he wished to have the time to grieve, so I didn’t argue and left him to it with a peck on the cheek and a murmured “Don’t hurt yourself,” returning to my own room for the dinner that was left for me.

Once I had eaten the very little amount of food I could stomach, my time in captivity making me weak to rich fare, I became very bored and strolled around, looking for something to do. Eventually I discovered a small book tucked away in the drawer of the nightstand, and I assumed a guest had forgotten it after using the room many years before. The print was, unfortunately, in the Asgardian runes, but luckily I remembered Loki teaching me how to read them in order to pass our time in the cell. I curled into bed and drew up a chart of the runic alphabet next to the one I was used to and began to attempt to read the book, but I got no further than the table of contents before my efforts put me to sleep.

I awoke to Loki perched on the edge of my bed, thumbing through the book, which had been forgotten next to my pillow. His eyes were bloodshot, sunken into deep purple hollows, and his complexion was an ashy pallor, revealing exactly how he had grieved the night before. His mood was dismal, as was to be expected, but not the kind of dismal that usually went along with grief. He was still the perfect gentleman to me, but it was obvious that he was annoyed and angry about something, and eventually I summoned up the courage to ask what about.

“Mother’s funeral is this evening,” he muttered, nudging the edge of a rug made from the pelt of some poor animal with his toe. “I was the one who loved her most in all of the Realms, and they’re not even going to let me pay my respects to her properly.”

“Who told you that you wouldn’t be allowed to attend?” I questioned, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“Well, no one,” he admitted, pouting. “But I assume.”

“You shouldn’t assume until you know the truth,” I scolded. “For all we know, if you would just ask-”

At that moment, Thor burst through the door. His appearance had drastically changed since our first and last encounter in Stark Tower what seemed to be an eternity ago, his hair resting farther down between his shoulder blades, his face wiser and drawn, a deep blue cloak slung over the shoulder of his more winter-appropriate armor.

“Will you ever learn to knock?” Loki drawled, rising languidly to his feet, body curled into an incredibly defiant position. The way the two faced off, it was like witnessing animals in the wild, battling for territory.

“You were not in your chambers as you’re supposed to be,” Thor intoned. “You void any manner of privacy when you do such a thing.”

“If it’s forbidden, then why did the guards let me by without so much as a second glance?” One of Loki’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline as he cocked his head threateningly, daring Thor to challenge him. In response, Thor took a few wide strides towards Loki with rage twisting his features, and I was almost frightened that I was about to witness the death of the first person I shared a relationship with until Thor stopped in his tracks, curling his broad hands into fists and sucking in a calming breath.

“I need to know if you wish to attend Mother’s funeral ceremony,” Thor eventually managed to declare calmly. “Because if so, I need to assign guards to escort you.”

Loki momentarily looked back towards me, and I couldn’t resist flashing him an obvious “I told you so,” look. Seemingly ignoring it, he whirled back around to answer Thor.

“Of course I wish to attend. But are the guards necessary? Can’t you trust me to behave myself, for Mother’s sake?”

“No.”

With that resounding in the air, Thor turned on his heel and departed as swiftly as he had come. Loki had no outward reaction, but I knew he was feverously raging on the inside. Hesitantly, I crawled out from under my covers so that I might place a hand on his shoulder as he plopped back down on the bed, kneading the muscles in a way I hoped was soothing.

“You know I trust you, right?” I murmured.

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he spat. The small exchange had clearly rattled him greatly.

“I absolutely should.” I slithered off the bed in a fluid motion so that I knelt before him. “But let’s focus on what we should be focusing on. Today we should celebrate your mother’s life, and tonight we will pay our respects to her.”

Loki was satisfied to comply with that suggestion, and I spent the rest of the day listening to him tell heartwarming stories about Frigga, patiently waiting and assuring him that it was alright to cry when he faltered. However, since his breakdown in the cell the day before, he had yet to let me witness his mourning again, and I suspected that he was embarrassed of it.

When dark gathered and the time came for us to depart to the ceremony, I dressed in all black and Loki clasped a dark cloak over his armor, casting a hood over his forehead to shield his face. However, when we went to meet our escort, the guard that seemed to be a carbon copy of all others we had encountered informed us that we must wait until all others in attendance had arrived at the ceremony before we could join them so that we would not be seen. We were left waiting in an awkward silence in the middle of the corridor until we were finally permitted to go take our place, which was so far back in the crowd we might as well have watched from the palace. I expected Loki to grumble about it, but in that moment he is frightfully sombre.

The funeral was nothing like I had been expecting. There were no speeches, no happy memories of the deceased exchanged, only figures that seemed to be priests ornamenting the boats where the dead would make their final journeys with ceremonial objects. At first the eerie silence seemed morbid, but I realized later that it wasn’t. No speaking was required, for in that moment everyone was joined into one heart that rang out with the same emotion, and when the boats were cast out to sea, an odd sense of calm and closure came over the crowd. 

However, when the archers raised their bows and cast out fiery arrows to set the boats aflame, I broke from my reverie to glance over at Loki, and noticed tears streaming down the portion of his face visible under the hood, the wetness gleaming in the firelight. I stepped in front of him to wipe them away and console him with gentle words, and to my surprise he did not deny his emotions nor push me away, but snaked his arm around my hip, holding me as if I was the only thing binding him to the world around him.

Once glowing spheres of bluish-white light were released into the sky, making for quite an enchanted sight, his resolve broke. He turned sharply, hood falling back onto his shoulders with the motion, seizing my hand and storming back into the palace and down the hall, skin warm from rage.

“Tomorrow can’t come fast enough,” he growled through clenched teeth, red-rimmed eyes that were once pitiful turning frightening. “I cannot wait to bring down the vengeance of all Asgard down upon the filthy creature that took my mother from this world.”


	10. Chapter 10

The hours after the funeral ceremony were when Loki’s and my relationship was solidified into its new status and we truly became a pair. After he had calmed from his mild outburst and we returned to our respective rooms, I descended into mine only to change into a nightgown, heading straight for his chambers directly after with no qualms about the guards looking on, wasting no time tucking myself into his bed and burrowing under the covers before he even realized I was there. 

When he discovered me as he emerged from his closet, dressed down in loose-fitting sleeping clothes, he did not appear surprised that I was there, immediately gliding in behind me as if it was something he had been doing forever. I rolled over to face him, burying my head in his chest to breathe in his scent, and in the action silently assuring him that while I may be taking my own comfort in him, he still had some form of privacy to mourn if he wished. Despite that, it was a bit shocking to me when he complied, shedding his tears silently, his body shuddering with a quickly contained sob every so often. I said nothing, for I knew nothing was what he needed at that moment, and simply allowed myself to drift off to sleep in the safe comfort of his arms.

In the early hours of the morning, I was awoken by gentle kisses peppering my forehead. Remaining still and blinking a few times to confirm that I wasn’t dreaming, I tilted my chin back to meet Loki’s eyes. He awarded me with a small smile, which left me taken aback, if not a bit perplexed.

“Now there’s an expression I didn’t think I’d see for a while,” I eventually murmured, reaching up to brush my fingertips across his lips.

“I’d say you know me well enough by now to know that I make it a point to do whatever I can to avoid revealing any weaknesses, emotional or otherwise, to anyone.” His mouth puckered about my fingers, presenting them with a small peck. “I have allowed my facade to fail far too many times in the past few days. If I’m to restore it in the events to come, I must start implementing it now.”

“In spite of that, you do remember that the facade most definitely isn’t a requirement with me, correct?” I confirmed, worried that he would never find freedom nor comfort in me.

“Of course I do.” Planting a final kiss on my lips and quelling my fears, Loki slid from the bed. “I’m afraid that we must part now, and prepare for the battle that is to come. I believe something appropriate for you to wear has been laid out in your chambers.”

Reluctantly rising from beneath the covers, I cast one last longing glance over my shoulder as I returned to my own room, approaching the bed and spotting the garment that Loki had mentioned. It was in three pieces, forming a dress of sorts when put together, loosely resembling Loki’s own battle armor.

The undermost layer was a skirt of leather that drifted down to mid-calf. The material gave me pause for a moment, for leather was notorious for being heavy, stiff, and sticky, but this particular variation was none of those things, on the contrary, it was quite light and cool, flowing freely and giving me an extensive range of motion, whilst still providing my legs the protection necessary. 

The second layer was a bizarrely cut blouse of sorts, made from a thick fabric with the same uncharacteristic qualities of the leather, hugging my torso tightly and extending into a single wide strip of material that laid across my front, cutting off at the exact length of the underskirt.

The final piece was what made the garment qualify as armor, for it was just that: a piece of silver metal fitting exactly to my form, going on over my head and clasping under my arms. However, it barely covered half my torso, protecting only my heart, though I supposed that meant that I was not to see much action that day.

After completing the arduous task of dressing myself and sliding on the boots meant to accompany the outfit, I collected the silver-hilted dagger that had been placed on my nightstand, almost identical to the one I selected before New York, and slid it into the hidden belt in the leather skirt. After pacing about my room a few times to make sure everything fit soundly, I proceeded to head to Loki’s chambers once more, only to find him waiting for me in the hall.

“Armor becomes you,” he commented upon my approach, looking me up and down, eyes tinged with something that could have been lust.

I hummed in reply. “Whether it does or not, I hope I don’t have many occasions to wear it in the future.”

“A fine point.” As he gifted me with another lighthearted smile, I concluded to myself that Loki’s lack of apprehension for what was to come was likely due to centuries of battle training and fighting in previous wars. I envied him for that serenity, wishing to banish the dread lingering in the pit of my stomach.

“Where are we supposed to meet Thor?” I questioned.

“The throne room. Unfortunately, we must reach it using the same concealed stairwell that leads to the dungeons.” Taking my hand in his and holding it tightly for my sake, Loki led us in that direction. “I assure you, though, that you will never return to that cell so long as I have breath in my body.”

Even with his words resounding in my ears, my stomach still began to tighten in fear when we entered the dark and humid chamber. As we descended, I pressed myself as tightly to Loki’s body as I could without being conspicuous until we finally exited through a narrow door tucked into the wall of the courtroom, so cleverly hidden that one would never suspect a thing if they didn’t already know a secret passageway lingered there. Turning about to look for our accomplice and peering through the columns that lined the aisle leading up to the throne, I was shocked by the destruction I met there. Many of the pillars had collapsed, great portions of the walls were a ruin, the throne had been reduced to a pile of rubble, and in the center of the sea of debris a ship appearing to be carved from stone laid on its side, the obvious source of the destruction.

I let out a gasp at the sight and sped forward ahead of Loki, climbing over piles of jagged stones to where Thor and a petite brunette woman stood, forgetting my reservations and abandoning all etiquette-demanded respect I previously displayed towards the older prince in my shock.

“What happened here?” I demanded, though not unkindly.

“An invasion,” Thor replied matter-of-factly. “This is where the Dark Elves entered the palace in the first place. Quite a tactical decision on their part, however disastrous for us.”

Loki stepped up behind me, subtly observing the damage himself. “And is that why you’ve summoned us here so urgently? To discuss battle tactics and compliment the enemy?”

Thor glowered. “You know damn well that I didn’t rouse you for that,” he growled, not at all amused at Loki’s jesting.

“Oh, I do,” Loki continued, adding salt to the wound. “I was just making certain that you remembered your purpose. We are a bit pressed for time, brother.”

“I’m well aware. If one final task is completed instantly, we will be precisely on schedule.”

“And what might that be?” Loki cocked his head to the side tauntingly, and before either of us could process what was going on, Thor lunged forward and clamped a pair of thick chains around Loki’s wrists.

“What are those for?” I sputtered.

“I cannot trust him. If this operation is to be successful, I need him as much under my control as possible.”

“I’m truly hurt,” Loki drawled after Thor as he made for the alien ship, mounting the ramp that led inside with the woman I assumed to be Jane Foster in tow. Utterly confused at this point, I jogged forward to catch up with them.

“Well, then, why am I not in chains also?” I asked.

"Because you go wherever and do whatever he does." Thor grumbled, offering his hand to Jane and assisting her in boarding. I opened my mouth to protest, but found that I had nothing to argue against for that statement was now wholly true. Loki was well aware of that fact, as well, and cast me a wry grin as he passed me to join Thor at the controls.  
“Oh, shut up,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. Loki heard, and cast me a wink over his shoulder. I stuck my tongue out in reply, but that he didn’t notice, for he had already moved on to pester his brother. Rolling my eyes at the situation, I stepped over to introduce myself to Jane, who appeared quite a bit calmer than I would have expected.  
"I don't think we've met." The corners of my lips pulled upward into what I hoped was a kind smile. "I'm Camryn."

"Yes, Thor told me a little bit about you, and how you got here.” Jane looked me up and, down, clearly apprehensive because of my associations with Loki and the invasion of New York. However, it was also obvious that she was making an effort to be kind, for she returned my smile, then pointed out Loki and Thor, giggling a bit at their bickering. "Are they always like this?"

"I actually wouldn't know. It seems to be, though. They're like children, aren’t they?” I snickered briefly and Jane nodded in agreement, mirroring my actions. Though, as she opened her mouth to reply, she was interrupted by the ship jerking into motion, forcing me to abandon the conversation and sprint over to the wall and dig my fingers into any available crevice in order to stay upright. There I felt the aircraft turn, accompanied by the deafening roar of even more columns crumbling to the ground. As it finally righted itself and propelled forward, the ship steadied enough for me to tentatively let go of the wall, however, it appeared that not everybody felt quite as safe, for out of the corner of my eye I noticed Jane fold in upon herself and fall to the ground.

"Oh, dear." Loki tutted as if nothing more than a bit of tea spilling at an afternoon garden party had occurred. "Is she dead?"

Despite my efforts to stifle it, a single, traitorous giggle slipped from between my lips. Facing the wall and spreading my palm over my mouth to silence the ones that followed, Loki flashed me a proud look as Thor heaved a sigh at our behavior.

"Would you...?" He inquired pleadingly, tilting his head towards where Jane laid. I agreed without complaint, but was still slightly begrudging as I stepped over to kneel down next to her, placing my hand on her arm and attempting to rouse her. I had only just succeeded on that count when a stream of laser beams began to pummel the ship relentlessly, once again throwing my body forward, causing me to have to maneuver quickly in midair to avoid crushing Jane. Regaining my footing, I seized the only half-conscious woman under her shoulders and dragged her to an area of the ship where she was less likely to get injured, seeking stability myself.

I stayed stock still throughout the ambush that did not at all seem to faze Loki or Thor, rooting my body into the ground. The firings soon halted almost as swiftly as they started, and as I risked a glance upward to make certain it was truly over, I was just in time to witness Thor shoving Loki out of the aircraft, his shout carrying up to me as he plummeted.

"What the hell are you doing?" I screamed at Thor, but he merely ignored my comment, stepping right past me to scoop Jane into his arms.

"Follow me," he eventually stated as he stood before the open hatch, leaping out of the ship himself.

Alarmed, I approached the edge, peering down and spotting a small, hovercraft-type vehicle floating over an expansive body of water. On it Loki was rising to his feet and Thor placing Jane on a small bench in the stern, and it was clear that it was where I was meant to go. 

I fretted over waiting to reach the best angle for landing, but realized that I couldn’t wait that long, for the ship I was in had no pilot and would spiral out of control at any second. Reasoning with myself that even if I missed the hovercraft that the water below would break my fall, I took a flying leap, suspending myself in air. The wind whistled in my ears and the biting wind snapped at my cheeks, curling around my body and pushing me downward. Not wishing to go about the rest of the journey with broken legs, I prepared myself to roll upon landing, nearly crashing right into Loki as I rose to my feet. He placed his hands on my shoulders, scanning my body furtively.

“You’re alright?” He murmured. “Not hurt?”

I shook my head, but Loki’s impromptu medical examination of me was cut short when Thor reminded him that he was to steer the craft. Loki, with almost too much excitement gleaming in his eyes, stepped over to the controls and pulled me along with him, urging the vehicle forward at a climbing pace.

"You may want to hold on," he called over his shoulder to me as the speed we traveled at reached a breakneck level. I seized his middle immediately, grateful for the approval to do so.

"Loki..." Thor's comment oozed with enough apprehension to prompt me to follow his line of sight to discover what he was worried about, and my stomach dropped as I laid eyes on the miniscule crevice that we were headed for, embedded in a cliff.

"If it were easy, everyone would do it," Loki insisted, entirely calm despite the fear of his passengers.

“Are you mad?” Thor demanded, and I could not deny that the question was one even I was considering asking.

“Possibly!” Loki called back, positively giddy. Afraid of what that might mean, I squinted my eyes shut as the hovercraft approached its destination. The ship rattled and bounced, and that paired with the sounds of metallic screeching and scraping caused a massive pounding in my head. I dug my fingernails into Loki’s shoulders as a cold gust of air swept over us, but when I opened my eyes, our surroundings were entirely different, and we were gliding along as if no upset had ever occurred.

"Ta-da," Loki sang smugly, gesturing to the dark and dilapidated world around us. From our perspective it seemed to contain nothing but destruction, and from the strange brownish color of the sky I guessed that this was a place where the sun never shone. Practically collapsing in relief, I released my grip on Loki and allowed myself a laugh.

“Now that I know we won’t die,” I breathed, “we should do that again.”

***

The next hour or so of travelling was spent in utter silence. I eventually sat down on the side of the hovercraft so I could watch the scenery, Thor stayed practically glued to Jane, and Loki, the designated driver, had to keep his hands on the controls, but his attention was on me. Every so often we’d make eye contact, and he would smile and avert his eyes as if he were embarrassed.

We soon reached a towering hill, a point in our travels where we would have to continue on foot. I made my way into the lead with Loki, my arm laced through his, our bodies hunched over due to the angle we were climbing at. Before long we reached the peak of the trek, all of us halting and kneeling to the ground, peering out over the horizon. After a brief exchange with Loki, Thor instructed me and Jane to stay out of sight and rose to his feet, Loki following, extending his arms for his chains to be removed. 

The moment they were, Loki produced a dagger from out of nowhere and plunged it into Thor’s stomach, shoving him off the hill and leaping down after him. Jane squealed and jumped up to go to Thor, cueing me to make a desperate grab for her, only to miss and have to chase her as she scurried down the hill. Much to my advantage, she tripped when reached the base, and I seized the opportunity to pull and hold her down, grabbing one of her wrists and positioning myself in front of her.

"What are you doing?" She whispered as she monitored our fighting partners from over my shoulder, form trembling.

"We were told to stay put. Thor would never forgive me if I risked your safety." I pulled out my own dagger as a precaution, attempting to conceal that I was also incredibly confused and riddled with fear.

"He may not be alive to forgive you!"

Even though my strength ultimately outdid hers, Jade made to try and escape my grasp once more, but froze in fear as a ship identical to the one we escaped Asgard in approached and hovered towards the ground in order to allow a pair of creatures to step out. One was mostly humanoid, though the features that discounted that qualification were incredibly unsettling, including impossibly white skin and a charred burn dominating one half of his face. His companion was a thing out of nightmares: towering in height, hooked horns sprouting from a head that looked more a mask than anything. With Thor subdued on the ground, Loki approached and cast me a look that made me realize that his actions of betrayal were nothing but a farce before seizing Jane and surrendering her to those I assumed to be Dark Elves.

The ghostly white one took a small step towards me, peering down at my form, which was still flattened on the ground. “And who is this?”

Loki motioned for me to come to him, and I did so gratefully, tucking myself into his side.

“She is my companion in all this,” he announced in a stern yet proud tone. “She is not to be harmed.”

"So long as she remains out of our way we will not aim to attack her." The elf dismissed my presence with that statement, approaching Jane and raising her into the air with nothing but a wave of his hand. His attention on her was intent, which left Loki with an opportunity to begin whispering frantically in my ear.

“A fight is going to break out any moment now, so I will have to leave you,” he informed, and whether what I sensed in his voice was nerves or determination to attain vengeance for Frigga I could not say. “Move yourself away from the action, and only fight if you must. Keep yourself safe."  
He made to give me one last parting kiss, but Jane dropped to the ground and Loki dashed from my side before our lips could meet. Before I could blink, his promise of what was to come had manifested. As Jane crawled away and most of the elves ambushed Thor and Loki, one outlier came for straight for me. I had no idea what sort of strength those creatures had and was not going to risk a hand-to-hand combat session, so I merely held my breath and tossed my dagger at it instead. Luckily, it landed right in its throat, and I ran by to retrieve it and let the elf bleed out before making my way over to Jane, scanning the field for any more assailants. My hand trembled with adrenaline and the air was occasionally penetrated with grunts and shouts of exertion or agony. I searched furtively for Loki, praying that he was not hurt.

When I noticed Jane beside me, doing the exact same thing for Thor, I broke from my reverie. Remembering my instructions, I convinced her to follow me towards the hill we approached on, and she located a perfect hiding spot between two large boulders. No one from the small battlefield could see us, though in turn we couldn’t see them, and neither of us could decide if that was a blessing or a curse.

We waited for what seemed like an eternity in hell, but when a devastated yell from Thor echoed over to us, my heart skipped a beat as I disregarded every order I had been given, launching to my feet and sprinting in the direction it came from, praying that the cause was not what I feared the most.

It was.

Splayed out onto the ground was Loki, gasping visibly, his skin turning a strange grey pallor, hands weakly clawing at a gaping hole in his torso, shoulders cradled by Thor as the elder attempted to comfort him. A wail rose in my throat, announcing my presence, and Loki cast a glance at me through a gap in Thor's arm.

"Camryn," he murmured softly, voice strained. “I need to speak to her.”

Thor swiveled about, sympathy gleaming in his eyes, gesturing for me to come closer. I dropped to the ground instantly as I replaced him, mimicking his previous position, supporting Loki’s head with my hand.

"I'm sorry for leaving you," he murmured, swallowing hard. A single tear leaked from his eye and I wiped it away with my thumb, weeping uncontrollably myself.

"You're not going to leave me," I insisted in a wavering voice, unsure of whether I was trying to convince him or myself of that fact. "You're going to be fine. We’re going to get you back to Asgard and those healers will put you right again. Just focus on me, alright? Focus on my face and staying awake."

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself." Disregarding my delusions, he grunted with effort as he reached up and brushed away the wetness from my cheeks.

"I won’t need to, because I’ll still have you to protect me. Forever."

"I'm sorry." Loki studied my face with an incredible childish wonder in his expression before his eyes began to drift closed. "I love you."

And then he was gone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a bit gory in a couple of places, so if that bothers you, be wary.

"No," I whimpered, tears flooding from my eyes in an unbidden gale. My body racking with gut-wrenching sobs, I pressed my lips to Loki's cold, lifeless ones, shaking his shoulders in an attempt to rouse him. "No."

"Camryn." A strong, calloused hand clasped my shoulder and pulled me back a few inches. "He’s gone. We have to go."

"No!" I shrieked once more, throwing myself down on top of Loki and pressing my head against his chest, hearing nothing of the steady heartbeat that once rocked me to sleep with feelings of safety and comfort each night.

"Come back to me," I whispered, groveling at his armor, pressing my hand to the gaping wound in his abdomen in an attempt to stay the flow of blood that was almost completely spent. Instead, his life force pooled heavily on the ground below his torso, so dark it was almost black. It coated my hands as I clumsily went from point to point on his body like some sort of excited dog, smearing onto his face as I cupped his cheeks.

"Camryn, please." Thor looped his hand around my waist and tugged, but an inhuman growl escaped my lips as I dug my nails into the dirt under Loki's body and resisted the motion.

"If he dies, I stay here until I die with him!" I roared, my declaration echoing eerily throughout the deserted landscape.

"I beg of you, be sensible about this. We have to go." Thor’s words were gentle, but his pull was rough as he lifted me away, trapping me between his forearm and hip. I screamed, clawing at his arms and kicking every limb that came in contact with me, thrashing like a fish out of water. I wailed more protests as he carried me away from Loki, my love and the only person important to me anymore. With him my new life, my good, happy life, one I never thought I would have after spending years as a runaway, was ripped away from me. Loki had been my hope for something more; my safety, my security, my stability, and now all of that was all gone. In the midst of my fit I felt Thor's hands make a vain attempt to calm me, but I merely smacked them away roughly, wanting to be free to mourn; free to pretend that no part of the battle ever happened.

"How are we supposed to bring her back like this?" I heard Jane ask warily as I wiggled out of Thor’s grip at last and began crawling like a feral animal back to Loki’s body. “We can’t leave her here… can we?”

"The easiest way to calm her is one I don’t prefer," Thor replied, a cringe evident in his voice. I heard the pebbles coating the ground crunch under his heavy boots as he came up behind me and I felt the air shift when he raised a hand, the wind whistling slightly as it cut through space and collided with my head. Immediately after the impact, my senses dulled, my crazed state slowly faded into dormancy, and the whole world went black.

 

When I peeled my eyes open, everything was numb. My body was leaden. I couldn't see straight. My surroundings blurred together like smudged watercolors. It was so cold.

Arms covered in icy metal carried me as far away from their owner's body as possible. For a moment my muddled mind recalled Loki’s bracers and my heart soared at the notion that I might be with him now, whether we were both dead or alive. I turned my head to look up, hoping with every cell in my body that it was him, but I was only met with a guard whose face was puckered with a sour expression, lips twisted in distaste. Practically feeling my heart shatter, I let my head fall limp and prayed for my own death.

Eventually I was jostled as the guard extended a booted foot and kicked open a door, striding quickly across this new room and dropping me roughly on a bed before leaving at a pace that was barely slower than a run. I rolled to the side and begrudgingly opened one eye the slightest crack, discovering that I was in my borrowed room from before we went to battle. Unsatisfied, I shakily rose to my feet, head pounding, and scampered over to Loki’s chambers, paying no mind to the members of Thor’s guard set to monitor me as they gawked at my actions.

Once I passed over the threshold of my preferred apartments, I was vaguely conscious of trudging to the closet and shedding my leather and metal combat uniform, replacing it with one of Loki’s olive colored undershirts and a pair of black cotton pants that I assumed he wore for sleeping. Once I was as wrapped up by him as I could be, I threw myself upon his bed I curled into a ball, bringing his pillow and sheets up to my nose, inhaling his scent, a plethora of denial ringing through my head.

He couldn’t be gone. He wasn’t gone. I needed him too much. He wouldn’t leave me like that when I needed him so.

With that final phrase going into a loop, running through my mind over and over until I eventually began to say it aloud, I slipped into sleep.

 

I suppose that I was in shock. My waking hours were spent numb and unfeeling, lying in bed without even shifting my position to pull the covers over myself, staring blankly at the wall without a single thought crossing my mind. My sleeping hours were spent shaking, screaming, and sobbing, rattled by nightmares and the true realization that my Loki was gone.

Thor’s guards would bring me food twice a day, but each time I denied it. They would leave it by the door in case I changed my mind, but I never did. I had no idea what would happen to me now that the only person concerned with my protection was gone. Would I have to go back to my cell? Would they send me back to Earth? If they did, I would have to start running all over again. On Asgard, I was safe from my faceless enemies. The thought of starving to death was preferable to going back to my old life, and doing so was the choice I made. At least then I would be with Loki again.

One day, after my morning shouting session, telling the guards to go away and that I didn’t want to eat, a thin woman with dark hair and bright cyan eyes entered the room. She threw open the drapes, letting through wide streams golden light that I recoiled from, burrowing under the duvet. As she sat on the edge of the bed and gave me a sympathetic smile, the fine lines around her eyes and mouth becoming more prominent with the action, I assumed she was a nurse of some sort.

"You have to eat sometime," she murmured in a voice like a beloved grandmother’s, stroking my ratty hair. "You need your strength to live."

"I don't want to live in a world where I'm away from Loki," I whimpered quietly.

"He's looking after you from where he is. He wouldn't want you to cut your life short on his account."

I squinted my eyes shut at that painful truth. When I opened them once more, whether a minute or an hour later, the drapes were shut and the nurse was gone. Pulling the covers over my nose to catch my tears, I rolled to my side and tried yet again to sleep my feelings away.

 

That night I was unsurprisingly plagued with another nightmare, yet it was the same one I had every time I closed my eyes. I watched Loki's death over and over again, each time being presented with some new way I could have saved or died with him, as well as the crushing knowledge that the event would haunt me in full force for the rest of my life.  
I jerked awake the fourth time the spear plunged through his heart, screaming and thrashing, but a gentle hand quickly pulled me to a supportive shoulder and a soft voice shushed me. At first I assumed that it was the nurse, but the hand was too broad, the shoulder too muscular, and the voice to deep to match up with what I had observed about the woman when she was with me before, and the way I fit into each and every bend of the torso of whomever was holding me was all too familiar...

Heart pounding in both excitement and fear that it wouldn’t be what I thought, I pulled away and met a pair of glimmering emerald eyes.

"Loki!" I squealed in delight and relief, throwing my arms around his neck and holding him as tightly as possible before a slew of questions forced me to pull away. "This can't be real. This has to be a dream. You're dead. I watched you die." I put my fingers to my forearm and pinched the skin between my nails. Loki still remained in front of me, regarding my actions with a loving and bemused expression.

"Of course I'm alive, love." I could detect the grin in his voice as he drew me into his body once more. “Now don’t squirm. A few days ago I thought I’d never get to hold you again, so that is something I plan to not take for granted again.

I obeyed his request, for I had felt the exact same way. I nudged myself even closer so that there was not an inch of space between us, resting my head in the crook of his neck and breathing in his snowy scent.

"But how are you here?” I continued to question nevertheless. “I saw you die. You bled out; your heart stopped. You were gone."

"I was, but only for a moment. Apparently my body had an adequate amount of magic left in it to heal my wound enough for me to smuggle my way back into Asgard. I'm here, darling, and I plan to stay."

"I'm so glad." I absentmindedly dropped my hand down to lay it against his firm stomach, but he groaned softly as I did so, doubling over when I pulled back.

"Are you alright?" My tone was shrill, for fear had taken complete hold of me once more.

"I wasn't able to heal myself completely." Loki wrapped his hand around his waist, breathing sharply through clenched teeth. “Don’t fret, because it’s no longer fatal. Just painful.”  
"Here, lay down." I attempted to restore the tangled sheets to some sort of order and helped Loki onto them, pushing him back gently when he protested. "I'll be right back. I'm going to fetch the nurse; she was in here before-"

"No," Loki snapped, but his tone softened when he noticed my hurt expression. "No one can know I'm here."

"Well, alright then. But I’m still not going to let you suffer, and if I’m going to be your doctor, I’ll have to get a few things. I'll be back as soon as I can." Pecking him quickly on the cheek, I bunched up the excess fabric of my borrowed pants in my hands so that I wouldn’t trip over it and made for the door. “Please, try not to die again while I’m gone.”

His light chuckle carried me into the entrance room of the chambers, but as I was about to descend into the main corridors of the palace I remembered the guards stationed outside. I paused for a moment with my hand on the doorknob, trying to formulate something to say that would both explain why I had finally emerged from solitude and help me find where I wanted to go. With that story in mind, I slowly propped the door open and slipped through.

“You’ve come out,” the guard to my left observed as he spotted me, dumbfounded.

“Yes, I have. Am I not allowed to be out of my- or, Loki’s rooms?”

“Prince Thor said you were to have the run of the palace if you desired it, just so long as you steer clear of wherever the Allfather is,” the right guard answered. “The king doesn’t even know you went to the Dark World, let alone that you’re living freely in his home.”

“Isn’t he suspicious of the guards stationed outside this door, then? Or the meals that are delivered to me every night?”

“The Allfather has no reason to be in this wing of the palace, though if he happened to be, a system is set to notify us when he comes close so that we may enter the chambers and escort you out of them through secret passages. As for the food, the Allfather does not go into the kitchens, and as long as he gets his own meals he has no reason to question a thing.”

“Well, whatever you think will work for you...” I cleared my throat. “You see; I’ve come out because I have the most awful headache. Is there any place I might go to get some medicine for it? I don’t want to have to disturb anyone.”

“There’s a supply room in the medical wing, which isn’t too far from here.” The right guard gave me directions on how to get there. “You should be able to find what you’re looking for.”

Thankful I would not have to go far, for I feared if I took one pace away from the doors that the resurrected Loki would disappear, I followed the directions at a jog, my heart soaring with happiness but also with nerves that I would soon wake up and our reunion would turn out have all been a dream.

I soon reached the indicated door, stepping inside through the narrow frame. The room was not the cramped display of nothing but shelves as I was expecting, but actually rather expansive, with cupboards lining only the walls, the large space in the center of the room turned into a lounge area for the medical staff, a bookshelf and overstuffed leather armchairs situated before a crackling fire.

I approached the first cupboard to my left to begin my search, but swore under my breath as I realized that the labels were written in foreign runes that I couldn’t read quick enough. Instead I had to use the long method of location, opening each and every door until I came across the cupboard that contained rolls of bandages and multiple bottles of some sort of cream that I assumed was an antiseptic. I selected one of each and tucked them into the pocket of my pants, figuring that Loki would let me know if the cream was not the right kind, then sprinted back to his room, slowing just before I rounded the corner and came into the guards’ line of sight.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” the left sentry inquired just before I descended into the chambers, noting my empty hands. I kicked myself for not taking something else from the storeroom to enforce my lie.

“Well, I don’t read runes, so I didn’t have a clue what anything was,” I improvised. “My headache is gone now, though. Thank you for your help!”

Opening the door slowly to make sure that Loki wasn’t in the parlor, I descended into it, chest releasing with relief that I would no longer have to deal with the guards.

Loki’s eyes were closed when I stepped through to the bedroom, causing my heart to leap into my throat, for I feared he had died once more. However, when the bottle I had pulled from my pocket dropped to the floor with a sharp thunk, his lids peeled back to reveal enchanting celadon irises and his lips pulled into an award-winning smile.  
“You scared me,” I muttered, bending down to retrieve the cream. He paid me no mind, his gaze traveling up and down my body in a way that sent shivers down my spine.

“You're wearing my clothes," he assessed softly, still beaming.

I glanced down at myself and felt a flush creep up my face. "They smelled like you.”

"You look beautiful." As I settled down on the edge of the bed, Loki’s hand trailed to my cheek. “I never thought I’d see your face again.”

Heat burst up my neck and I could make no reply but a silly grin, instead busying myself with the seemingly impossible task of removing his armor.

“Vambraces first,” he prompted gently, reaching over and displaying the action by releasing a clasp on the underside of his left forearm. “Then the overcoat, which attaches to the rest here, and then the next layer comes apart at the sides.”

After locating each clasp, strap, and button, getting my day’s workout by hauling the leather and metal pieces away and wondering aloud how on earth he managed to carry that much weight all the time, I eventually had him in just a padded green shirt with a gaping hole in the center and leather pants that put on great display an area I fought to avert my eyes from. Keeping my focus on the wound that was beginning to become visible, I reached for the hem of the padding and slid it off of his lean form.

"What the hell?" I laughed slightly as I discovered that under that he had on a shirt identical to mine, save for another giant hole in the middle. "How many layers do you have on?"

"A few," Loki replied, chuckling along. "Though lately they haven’t done their job of protecting me very well.”

As the final piece of fabric was removed and he was revealed, I realized that this was the first time I'd seen him shirtless. I absentmindedly sat back, stifling a gasp and staring at his body.

His chest was as pale as the rest of him, an alabaster tone so pure it seemed to glow. It was defined, with rows of muscles embedded under the skin that rippled like individual serpents with every move he made. They were not upstanding and bulky, but rather wonderfully deep and lithe in a way that made him seem as if he was carved from marble.

However, in the middle of his gorgeous torso was the wound that practically killed him, still oozing bits of blood every so often, dried clumps of the stuff piled up on the spear hole as big around as my wrist, the skin flayed outward from the weapon’s removal. Swallowing my fear and reminding myself that he was alright now, I remembered what I had to do. I stepped into the bathing room to locate a basin, holding it under the golden spout of the sink as the warm water rushed over my hands and jerked me back to reality.

As I searched around the room for a washcloth, I locked eyes with my reflection in the towering gilded mirror, cringing at the sight. My hair was disheveled and mussed, visible rats sticking out from the stringy strands. My eyes were darker than usual, a shade of coal black that they usually only assumed when I was ill, framed by dark purple circles. My skin was a ghostly greyish pale and my features seemed sunken, so much so it was almost as if I could see the bare outline of my skull. Ducking my head in embarrassment, I wondered why Loki called me beautiful in the first place and hurried to get out of the room and away from anything that could reflect my appearance.

Climbing back down next to Loki, I sat on my heels and positioned the basin on his nightstand. Next, I submerged the washcloth in the steaming water, wringing it out and placing it over the wound, gauging his reaction before beginning to wipe away the blood. He winced and groaned so quietly it was barely audible, but stayed perfectly still.

Once the wound was clear and I moved to clean the blood from the area around it, my hands began to wander. Before I knew it, I had both palms on his sternum, the washcloth abandoned in the pink-tinged water of the basin, his cold skin causing my fingertips to tingle.

"Are you having fun down there?" Loki inquired in a tone that relayed he didn’t wish for me to stop, gazing down at me with dark eyes, a furrowed brow, and slightly tilted head.

"Oh, sorry,” Flustered, I groveled around on the bed for the bottle of cream, not even checking that it was what I thought it to be before smearing it all over the wound and praying it didn’t kill him.

"I don't mind." Interrupting me from my task, Loki reached down and wrapped his hands around my upper arms, pulling me up so that I was straddling his chest and looking straight into his eyes. Brushing a bit of hair from my face with the back of his hand, tremors of anticipation rattling my body, he brought my head down and pressed his lips to mine, nipping my bottom one slightly before pulling me back and smirking without the expression ever reaching his mouth.

My breath catching in my throat, my intense feelings of lust almost frightening me, I could force myself to do nothing but climb back down his body, hastily rolling off of him as my backside came close to his bulge. To distract myself I took the bandage and wrapped up the wound, placing a gentle kiss over it once I was finished.

“There. All better.”

Loki gazed down at me fondly, clearly amused by my sudden modesty. “Thank you.”

“Just making sure you don’t die on me again.” I allowed myself a smile as I took the basin and stepped out to empty it. Once again positioned before the sink, I frowned as I studied myself in the mirror. Tapping my thumb on the bowl, I attempted to figure out what I could do to improve my appearance without being conspicuous. Eventually I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail at the nape of my neck, deliberately tucking the knots under more presentable bits of hair. With my jungle of a mane somewhat remedied and my now red and kiss-swollen lips bringing a little life to my face, I decided that I looked the slightest bit better. I was still definitely not at my best, but at least I no longer appeared as if I belonged in an asylum.

When I returned to the bedroom, Loki held his arms out for me. After a slight pause I slid into them and bravely positioned myself on his lap, my legs wrapped timidly around his hips. Drawing in a deep breath, I draped my arms over his shoulders, and one of his hands crept towards the small of my back whilst the other captured my chin. Without any further hesitation he took me in a kiss once more, our mouths fitting perfectly together, his hand eventually sliding up the back of my shirt and tracing wide circles with his palm. As an unexpected moan resonated deep in my chest, he pulled back a fraction of an inch for a single rumbling laugh, his icy breath tickling my face, before reaching up for me again.

The tip of his tongue soon began to graze my lips, and without pause I parted them. After a languid and gentle exploration of my mouth, he came away to peck my nose before moving to my neck, my head falling to the side as I shyly hummed in pleasure, for I had never felt such a sensation. I felt him grin into his ministrations before sliding his lips to a spot just below my jawline, his fingers curling around the hem of my shirt.

“Do you want me to?” he whispered against my earlobe, and a dazed “uh-huh,” was all I could manage in reply. However, before the fabric could pass over my shoulders, a knock sounded on the main door.

“Miss, it’s me,” a guard called out, entering the apartments. “I’m going to leave your food out here on the table, as usual.”

Loki yanked back as I scrambled to tug my shirt back down over myself, shock and annoyance in his eyes.

“Who is that?” he demanded.

"The guard that brings me food every day. Get in the closet. Go!" I shooed him off the bed and in the desired direction. "Hurry, and be quiet!"

When the wardrobe door was firmly shut, I kicked Loki’s armor under the bed and gave the room a final sweep for any sign of his presence before going to open the door.

"Are you actually going to eat tonight, miss?" The guard’s brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." I reached out and took the meal tray from his grasp. "And I just realized how hungry I've been. Could you possibly bring me another plate? I'm famished."

The guard regarded me carefully, and I attempted to look as sane as possible. "A-alright. I'll be back with that in a moment."

"Thank you." I sent him off with a gentle smile, attempting nonchalance as I ducked back behind the door. "Loki, are you hungry?"

The guard brought me the second plate of food in a timely manner and Loki and I spread out on the bed to eat. Our previous endeavor that my heart was still racing from seemed to have been abandoned, and instead we sat cross-legged, facing each other and simply talking without any reservations or anxieties, something we were never be able to do before.

"How long are you planning to stay in hiding? You can't live in this room forever." I stabbed a leafy green vegetable with my fork. "Once word gets out that I'm functioning properly, things will return to normal, I assume. Maids making their rounds and the like. Odin may even make me go back to Earth."

"My farce will not go on much longer. In fact, it will only continue throughout the rest of tonight if everything goes according to plan." Loki raised the wine goblet that we currently shared to his lips.

“Oh, god,” I groaned. “Another plan?"

"What's wrong with my plans?" Loki questioned, mock offense shaping his features.

"The last one killed you. The one before that got us thrown in prison. I don’t want to go through either of things again."

Loki playfully put a finger to my lips. "Hush, darling. You won’t. I will make sure of that."

I grinned, letting him in on my joke. "I'm not worried. I trust you."

Loki suddenly went solemn. "You're the only one who should."

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence until I eventually spoke up with a burning question.

"What's dying like?"

Loki blanched, but his face remained fixed in his well-practiced emotionless mask.

"Miserable,” he began, not making eye contact. “There's no such thing as a peaceful death, no matter what anyone says. Your whole body goes numb and your chest seems like it’s being weighted down with leaden blocks. Breathing is agonizing and you feel as if you're being choked. You can see death creeping towards you from every corner, advancing at a rapid pace, and you're terrified you're not going to be able to finish what you want to say..." He trailed off and drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve- I’ve had worse feelings, though.”

Disregarding his attempt to convince me that he was calm, I crawled over to his side of the bed and began to rub his back, trying to bring him comfort. After the tension started to gradually leave his body, I drew myself into him, entangling the fingers of my free hand in the hair at his neck.

"I don't ever want to leave you again," he murmured.

"You won't. I know you won't." I pulled back and gave him a look that hopefully portrayed that I trusted him more than anything in all the worlds, then planted a kiss on his bottom lip.

“I love you." His grin was broad. “Now that I can say it properly, without fearing that my soul will leave my body before I can finish the phrase.”

I giggled, happier than I’d ever been that he truly meant it and my chest feeling like it was about to burst with the reciprocal of his feelings. "I love you, too."

After that, we remained tangled within each other, talking about simple and meaningless things for hours. When I eventually had to fight to keep my eyes open, relaxed and content for the first time in years, Loki encouraged me to lay down and draped the blankets over us. As I situated myself into a comfortable position, he pressed himself against my back and wrapped his arm around my torso, kissing my hair. I entwined my fingers through his and brought our interlaced hands to my chest, never wanting to let go, feeling as safe as I could possibly be.

 

When I woke, I was alone.

"Loki?" I jumped upright, scanning at the dark room around me, fearing that the events of the evening before truly had been a dream. "Loki!"

I pulled the blankets off myself and leaped out of bed, attempting to detect any sign of his presence. His pillow was rumpled and my fingers were still chilly from his touch. When I entered the bathing room, the dirty basin and bloody washcloth were still there, but his armor, the one sure tell that he really had been with me, was gone from under the bed. I cried out for him again. Had I hallucinated the entire thing? Was I going mad? I held my hands out and inspected my own body for anything that could have bled and caused the mess in the sink.

When I found nothing, I sped into the parlor, the area distinctly perfumed by Loki’s scent, but still found no sign of him. Choked sobs of panic ripped from my throat as I ran over possibilities for his absence. Could the guards have come and dragged him back to the dungeon, or worse? Devastated, I collapsed into a ball and wept into my knees, nearly jumping out of my skin when a knock sounded on the door.

I swallowed heavily, peeling myself to my feet and opening it with a trembling hand and dread-filled chest.

A guard stood at attention in the doorway, regarding me expressionlessly. "You have orders to report to the throne room."

I thought I would faint with fright. Was Odin behind Loki’s disappearance? I squeaked out to the guard that I would go straight there once I was able to make myself presentable, then dragged my feet across the hall into my old room to find something to wear besides a tearstained shirt and far-too-large pants. Swinging open the closet door, I was befuddled to find the racks and shelves empty. My suspicion rising at an alarming rate, I rushed back to Loki's room to follow a hunch, tentatively opening his wardrobe and finding all of my things hanging alongside his.

When did that happen? My heart racing in my chest, I put on the first gown my hands came in contact with, a sickly mixture of emotions clouding my abilities to both see and think straight. I managed to lower myself down in front of Loki’s mirror and tame my hair as well as fix my tearstained face with cosmetics (which had been transferred there, as well), and in my dazed state forgot to put shoes on as I went to meet the guard that was to escort me to the throne room. I prayed that the floor-length gown would conceal my barefootedness, my mind quickly dismissing the error and rushing to other places. What could this visit with the king mean for me? Was I going to be thrown back in prison, or exiled back on Earth?

The guards flanking the entrance to the throne room opened the towering double doors for me as I reached my instructed location, and I gasped aloud when the one who sat upon the golden throne was revealed. With my fear dissolving rapidly, my footsteps quickened, and as I gathered my skirts into my hands to allow a wider range of movement, my pace accelerated to a run, a grin nearly breaking my face as I pulled up before the engraved steps.

"Kneel before your king," Loki commanded, a glimmer in his eyes revealing that he was playing a game with me, enjoying hearing himself utter the command and seeing my response to the phrase. I sank to my knees obediently and forced myself to keep my eyes down as his footsteps echoed through the spacious hall. After what seemed to be an eternity, his boots came into my lowered line of sight and I felt him affix something to my head, a cool metal resting upon my brow and looping around to the crown of my head.

"Rise, my darling." He took my hands to assist me as I came to my feet, staring in awe up at Loki in his kingly form, the crackling fires in the brazier casting an ethereal glow upon his horned helm.

"How did this happen?” I could not contain my questions. “Where's Odin?"

"How this came to be is for me to fret over. And Odin happens to be under our feet, in the dungeons. I wish for him to suffer the same way we did." Loki brought my hand to his lips, never once breaking eye contact.

"What are the citizens going to think about you just imprisoning him and taking over? What about Thor?"

Loki laughed quietly, the sound rolling about the columns and seeming to embrace me from behind. "Always so eager to know every detail of what is going on around you. I'll have you know that Odin is ill and weak and Thor has no desire to be king, so that means that when the Allfather dies, which will be any day now, I will be the true heir to the throne. However, the old man was seen in public yesterday, so the people won’t believe me if I say that he simply dropped dead all of a sudden. I'll just have to act as him long enough to stage his death."

"Why didn’t the guards fight you, though? And my things are already moved to your chambers. How are the servants so efficient at this hour?”

"A little mind control never hurt anybody." Loki smirked. "The spell will break once we stage Odin’s death and they won’t remember any of tonight’s events. It’ll all work out splendidly, I promise.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Now, I apologize for waking you so early. Breakfast should be prepared and laid out for you in our private dining room. Why don't you go eat, and I'll join you as soon as I’m able? I wish I could come now, but I sense a visitor will be here to see Odin at any moment."

Slightly confused, I turned the corners of my lips up and gave him a quick curtsy before making my way back down the hall. When I reached the doors, I caught a glimpse of my new gift in their reflective surfaces: a thin circlet that surrounded my head like a halo. The gold was fashioned into branches of some sort, many tiny diamonds ornamenting the ends and acting as blossoms, the accessory shining brightly against my hair and casting a gold reflection upon the coffee-colored strands. I looked over my shoulder to give Loki a thank you, but he was shrouded from me by a shimmering green glow. The knowledge of the fact that it was only his magic banished any worry from my heart, and I merely watched with fascination until it faded, revealing Odin sitting upon the throne once more.


	12. Chapter 12

"Loki."

"Yes, darling?" At her sighed utterance, Loki glanced down at Camryn’s curled-up form, entangling his fingers in her silken hair, only to realize that she had murmured the plea in her sleep. He allowed himself a gentle smile at the warmth that fact painted across his chest and a long kiss to the crown of her head, pausing to breathe in her scent of roses and sweetness and soap and home.

After years of searching for identity and a place to belong to, Loki had unexpectedly found that in a person. He no longer had to fret over whether he was Loki of Asgard or Jotunheim, for now he was simply hers, and it was a blissful thing to be.

Following a few more moments of relishing in his newfound happiness, Loki unclasped their previously entwined hands and slid out of the bed to pursue the victory that would make their lives close to perfect, and bring about a sort of contentment that they both sorely deserved. Camryn groaned slightly at the movement and Loki feared he had woken her, thus ruining his purpose of surprising her, but she simply rolled to her other side and pulled the blankets closer to her chest, one long leg exposed as the pants she was wearing bunched up at her sinewy thigh.

Staring down at her long yet compact figure, it took every ounce of Loki’s self-control to resist running his fingers along her porcelain skin and waking her with kisses, only to roll on top of her and explore her body in a way he’d never done before, but in a way he so craved. However, his task was currently the priority, and if it was completed as he planned, when the time for exploration came, it would only be that much more satisfying.

Forcing himself to tear his eyes away, Loki enlisted his seidr to change his sleeping clothes into his armor, forgoing his badly damaged battle variation for his more ceremonial garb; cape, helm, and all. Drawing in a preparatory breath, he planted a quick kiss on Camryn's warm temple, making for the main entrance of the chambers and pushing the door open in a way that would produce enough noise to disturb the posted sentry, but not enough so to rouse his sleeping partner. 

As expected, the guards on either side of the doorway turned to seek out the source of the deep, echoing clicks of gargantuan slabs of engraved gold parting, and advanced quickly as they realized whom they were facing. Loki, however, simply had to wave his hand to compel them to stop in their tracks, a glazed look seeping into their eyes, raised weapon arms falling limp to their sides.

"Go and gather the rest of the Einherjar and wait for me at the entrance to the throne room. Round up the servants as well, and tell them to be ready. I've things for everyone to do," Loki instructed, voice echoing across the deserted hall.

"As you wish, Your Highness." The guards ducked into identical bows, departing to fulfill his orders.

The mind-controlling spell Loki had cast was one he had been developing for years, and he was secretly quite relieved that it worked at last, as he was unsure that it would. It functioned like a virus, where he needed only administer it on one person, and anyone they encountered in the following hour would come under his control as well, remaining that way until the counterspell was applied. He had been originally developing it simply for fun or to have something to hold over Thor’s head, but when his mother found out about its nature and told Odin in her concern, the old man instructed Loki to continue working at it when he nearly abandoned it in frustration at its difficulty, reasoning that it would be extremely useful in building an army, or, in Loki’s current case, claiming a kingship. It was the first time Odin had ever approved of or thought Loki’s magic useful, and it was incredibly ironic that the only spell the Allfather ever thought worth anything would be the one helping to usurp him.

Loki took his time on the way to the throne room to allow his guards an ample window to complete their task, taking a way that sent him in practically a full circle around the palace, toiling on the grand staircase when he finally reached it and relishing in what he was about to do. When he arrived at the doors to the audience chamber a half-hour after he sent off the first Einherjar, close to the entirety of their ranks had congregated before them, standing at attention in neat rows, weapons poised to serve. The soon-to-be-king took his place at their head, raising his voice to address the whole of the mighty group; one that was completely under his command.

"I require a score of you to accompany me into the throne room. Odin should be there even at this late hour, seeing as he’s taken up an insomniac lifestyle since the death of the queen, spending day and night on his almighty perch. However, that perch will soon cease to belong to him.

“For those of you that are given the honor of joining me at this climactic moment, I want you to drag the old man off of the throne. Pull him to his knees before my feet and let him know whom he now serves." Loki couldn't prevent the slight, sly grin that spread across his lips as the words left his mouth. They hung in the air for a few agonizing moments, his excitement blending into worry that his spell had not held after all, heart jumping to his throat as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, whom had been previously standing to the side of his troops, stepped forward.

However, the commander’s purpose in breaking rank was not to foil the operation, but only selecting those that would fulfill Loki’s orders. Once an elite group was compiled and reorganized, they descended behind the towering doors as Loki waited outside with the remaining guards, savoring the startled yells and protests of the man he once had the nerve to call "Father.” After detecting two dull, metallic clunks that signified the death of the king’s sentinels, Loki made his grand entrance, savoring the drama of the moment in a way so unique to his style.

"Well, well, well," Loki intoned as he approached the pleasing scene. Odin was suspended on his knees between two guards, his singular good eye glazed over, helmet askew, mouth twisted into an enraged frown. Gungnir lay neglected to the side and Loki languidly prowled over to retrieve it, the familiar metal warm in his hands, the runes engraved into the gold glowing briefly at the contact.

"Loki. I’m not surprised that you are the instigator of this folly. I suppose your martyred death was just a part of some malicious scheme, correct?” Odin spat blood and a broken tooth onto the gleaming floor, seeming pretentious even in that action. "What do you hope to gain from this revolution? The people will never accept a beastly creature such as yourself, especially not after all you’ve done."

Loki chuckled darkly, not only at the fact that Odin had given up his own scheme of being a perfect, saintly father, but also at the insult that would have once shattered him not meaning a thing coming from the lips of someone that was just as much a monster as he.

"I am doing this, Odin, because I finally realized that I always have and always will be an abomination in your eyes; some bastard child of a primitive monster that’s worth nothing more than being a mindless pawn in your quest for total domination of the Nine Realms. I realized it the moment that you revealed, as I was suspended over a void, ready to bring about my own death, that you believed I would never be worthy of anything you regard as important. That was a truly superb parenting choice, Father.”

Giving time for the biting words to sink in, Loki began to pace in a way that made him seem a feline predator toying with his cornered prey; movement slow and calculated, head jutted forward and making him appear especially dangerous.

“I’ve been anticipating this day ever since. I know I’ve said it before, but I still find it incredibly ironic that you imprisoned me for doing exactly the same thing you longed to do, just with a different methodology. That finding is even more so when one realizes that my way of conquering the Earth was the one that is so glorified in the warrior-dominated culture here, yet yours was using the slyness and cunning which I have always been ridiculed for.

“And now, after years of you looking down on me because I’m not your perfect son, I’m finally stepping up to do my duty and claim what is rightfully mine. Did you think that I wouldn’t find out your schemes of attempting to make some other ‘worthy’ family the royal line when you foresaw Thor’s abdication and realized that I was your sole heir? If not, you are truly deluded. According to what I’ve gathered, that was supposed to be a matter of the utmost secrecy, yet the moment I was released from my cell I heard the whispers of it at every corner. You long so much for a successor with horrendous views identical to yours that you are willing to sacrifice your own dignity and legacy for it. When I returned from my death, which was not at all staged, mind you, those facts helped it dawn upon me that I no longer crave your approval, because it’s worth less than the waste of pigs.

“Now, like it or not, I am still a prince of Asgard. And by Asgardian law, any member of the royal family or any regal council can put forth a statement that the current heading monarch is not fit to rule. The statement will then be discussed at length, and the High Council will come to a decision on whether or not the ruler in question is to be impeached.   
You could say that this is my putting forth a statement, and I think you’ll find that the Council rather agrees with it.

“So, now that your reign is forevermore ended, I'm going to cast you into the same cell you tossed me and my love in, ensuring that you endure the same torture you administered on the only person I care about that remains living, and hope that you come to terms with the fact that you, the almighty Allfather, have faults." Loki turned on his heel and began to stride towards the throne, simply casting a spell of silence on the defeated king when he attempted to speak. "Guards, take him away. You know what to do."

"Yes, sire." The men dipped their heads to substitute for bows, seeing as their present task of restraint did not allow for much movement, and dragged a feebly protesting Odin from the chamber. After soaking in his halfway-unexpected triumph for a few long moments, Loki called a new, lower-ranked guard to attention.

"Tell the servants that all of Lady Camryn's things are to be moved to my chambers immediately and with haste, though give them strict instructions to be as silent as possible, for I don’t want them to wake her prematurely. Once they’ve finished, you are to be given the honor of rousing her, as well as informing her that she is to report here within the hour. Do not say that it is I on the throne, though, for I wish for that to be a surprise."

"As you desire, my king." With another bow, the young man made for the door at a brisk, agreeable pace.

"My king," Loki echoed under his breath once the guard had gone, the words honey as they rolled off his tongue. The thrill of finally denying all of the molds he had ever been put into and having full and proper ownership of the title, once and for all, was indescribable. 

He was almost afraid that the entire thing was just some wonderful dream, for it seemed too good to be true, and that he’d soon wake up back in his cell, alone, without Camryn to console him. Even whilst assuring himself that the event was not a figment of his imagination, he still felt a surge of nerves, hoping that he would be a good king, memorable for diplomatic success and positive reform. Odin’s words about the people that would never accept his title rang through his head, and he suddenly regretted using mind-control to achieve his ends, for it seemed a bad start to the regime he had in mind.

After praying strongly to the Norns and even his mother that the citizens of Asgard would see his true personality and the reasons behind his unlawful actions, and recognize him as a legitimate, tactful king instead of a tyrant, Loki became restless and eager to carry out a hunch he had wished to accommodate for as long as he'd been back from the Dark World. With time aplenty until Camryn was to arrive, he rose from the throne and wandered to Frigga's chambers.

He was aware that it wasn't respectful to paw through a dead person's belongings, but when he pushed through the door and found on the nearest side table a small velvet box with a folded note resting under it, shimmering blue with a spell that caused objects to only be found by those they were meant for, he knew that his mother’s seidr had been involved in his suspicions and couldn't help but investigate. Glancing around to make sure that he was indefinitely alone, he unfolded the crisp parchment and read his mother's neat, calligraphic hand:

 

Loki,

The moment the prison break began and I agreed to protect Jane Foster, I knew that I was more likely to perish than not. After all preparations for the invasion had been made, I quickly composed a rough will so that my most important belongings would be properly distributed should I pass on to Valhalla. The item that accompanies this letter was not included, for I knew that my wishes for its destination would not be carried out if Odin had anything to do with it. But I know that you are clever, and I know that my magic is strong, so I was confident that it would find its way into your possession somehow.

Please, my son, give this to Camryn. She is a wonderful woman and I know that you truly love her. I can see it when you look at her. You're always marveling at her striking, ethereal beauty, seemingly infinite intelligence, and charming, starry-eyed personality. You feel something for her I feared you would never feel, but so wanted you to, and I know you will protect her with your life. She makes you whole, and I want only the person who brings my son true happiness to have this special item.

As I've said before, do not lose her. I've never seen a love so pure or so strong, even in its earliest days, in all of my many millennia. I know that I will be watching over you when you receive this, and I know you will be missing me dearly. Please do not do so. Do not waste your life fretting over my death and any way you could have possibly caused or prevented it. Remember that our faith puts great stock in matters of fate, and how it is unavoidable. I beg of you to instead love Camryn with all of your heart and know that I am always with you.

All my love,

Mama

 

Loki paused for a moment to swipe at the tears that he involuntarily shed, tracing the ink that formed the title he had not bestowed on his mother, except in utmost privacy, since he was a young boy. After composing himself and tucking the letter into a hidden pocket of his armor so that he might have it close whenever he needed her words, he retrieved the box, peeling back the midnight-colored velvet lid and discovering a gold chain bearing a glittering circular emerald the size of a blackberry, with the tiniest, almost indistinguishable, flakes of red and blue. It was one of Frigga's favorite pieces, something she had commissioned after Loki was brought to the palace to symbolize her love for him and recognition that he was her son, one she always bore around her neck aside an identically cut ruby on a silver chain that represented Thor. Though the design was simple, it shone brightly no matter the lighting and seemed to only greatly enhance the beauty of the wearer. Loki could only imagine how it would look on Camryn, resting among her thick locks of coffee-colored hair, the light from the jewel reflecting in her fiery eyes, a symbol that she was his and he was hers. He decided to give it to her the next evening, giddy to see her reaction.

"Your Majesty, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt-"

Loki spun around at the soft voice and was met with a servant kneeling down shyly. He gently bade her to stand and present her message.

"We have finished transferring Lady Camryn's things, and we are now putting away Lady Jane's. I was sent to inquire if you would like to see if there's anything you desire to be put back for your lady." The servant chewed her lip, gauging Loki’s reaction.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt," he decided, and followed the maid down the corridors to Jane's scarcely used chambers, grimacing as he looked upon what the other servants were carrying away.

"I do not think it is necessary for these things to pass into Lady Camryn’s possession. They are far too simple for her, not to mention miles too short. As I recall, she was a good four or five inches taller than the Foster woman, so none of these gowns would be suitable."

Uninterested, Loki turned to leave, but a young scullery maid no older than fifteen carefully approached before he could cross out of the parlor, delicately carrying a golden headpiece, the mineral fashioned to appear a winding vine with delicate branches, diamonds dusting the edges. He recalled a portrait that resided in Odin's chambers of a young, newly-wed Frigga donning the same circlet, the painting one of Loki’s favorite depictions of his mother. The headpiece was as good a sign of importance as any helmet, and he was mildly shocked that it had ever been offered to Jane Foster, a guest never intended to take any throne, as it belonged on the head of someone who had earned it through diplomatic deeds or political status; the head of true royalty.

The head of my Camryn, Loki thought, envisioning the circlet draped over her forehead, increasing the elfin air to her appearance. He eagerly took it in his own hands and promptly returned to the throne room, for he knew that she was to be arriving at any moment and did not wish to miss her entrance.

When his love's face finally appeared between the all-too-slowly moving doors, he couldn't help but beam at how beautifully endearing she was. She was perched towards her toes as if preparing to take flight, hair falling perfectly about her form, eyes widened in astonished delight, a slight smile playing at her perfect, pouting lips as she began to dash towards him, only to gracefully float to her knees at his command. He fashioned the headpiece about her head, chuckling inwardly as he noticed her bare feet peeking out from under the gown that suited her willowy figure so well, and gently pulled her to a standing position.

Once upright, she stood tall, chin raised, expression knowing and naïve all at once, face alight with wonder and awe. Her hands were delightfully warm in his, and she held such a powerful demeanor that even Loki became intimidated of her presence. It took only a glance at this girl to realize she was born to be royalty, and anything that came out of her mouth only solidified that belief. In his mind, there was absolutely no denying that she was the perfect vision of what a true queen would be.

His queen.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before you read, I want you guys to make note of a little reminder: in this story, up to this point, Camryn has no idea that Loki is adopted nor of anything that Odin has done to him mentally. As far as she’s concerned, the biggest injustice of Odin’s against Loki is throwing him in prison without a trial, so that’s why most of her rage against Odin is drawn from her own experiences. I just wanted to remind you all of that so that you don’t start thinking of her a selfish character, which I very much don’t want her to be.
> 
> Also, I wanted to put some old Norse in this chapter, but as that’s technically a dead language, I know the online translators I found probably aren’t accurate. So, if you’re lucky enough to speak it, please know that it’s more likely than not that what I’ve written is incorrect. I’m so sorry, I tried my best!

The harsh clicks from my heeled shoes stabbing the stone floor echoed ominously throughout the soiled walls, my black dress billowing behind me like smoke. In my purposefulness, I was able to keep stride with Loki, and we stole a glance towards each other, linking hands as we continued our trek.

During breakfast that morning, Loki had entered the dining hall and informed me that he was going to decide Odin’s fate that day, inviting me to come along to have a say in the verdict. At first I was surprised by the notion, thinking that Loki would wish to be the sole decision-maker in assigning the punishment of the man he so loathed. When I told him so, however, he simply brushed his fingers along my back and stated that I had ample reason to wish for vengeance against Odin as well.

Following the conversation, we finished breakfast, not with an air that relayed the taxing yet victorious events of the past night nor of those yet to come, but with one that was instead contently calm. Once our meal was finished, I returned to what was now to be the room I shared with Loki, drawing a bath to wash away days of grief and anxiety, then changed into something more appropriate for a meeting with a man who caused the deep, puckered scars on my back. I decided on a layered onyx gown with a high neck that happened to cover that area of my body, not wishing to show that Odin had marked me in any way. As a finishing touch to display my newfound position to one that had just lost his, I placed the circlet on my head, then met Loki in the parlor so that we could make our way to the dungeons, flanked by two heavily armed guards.

Upon our arrival, Loki and I were directed to the same cell we had only just recently escaped, but it was almost unrecognizable. There were no more items of comfort, and the area was completely bare sans a set of chains that bound the old man. He slumped pathetically in a corner, his face slack, bleeding in several places.

“Hello, Odin,” Loki greeted coolly, and the subject of our mission gazed dully up at us with a tired eye.

“Odick is more like it,” I muttered under my breath, then had to resist clapping my hand over my mouth. The fact that sloppy Midgardian slang still came naturally surprised me, for I had been on Asgard for many months. Loki heard, and a barely repressed snicker slipped from his lips.

“What is that on your head?” Odin, completely oblivious to my rude comment and laughter in spite of him, observed me carefully, squinting at the circlet.

“That’s none of your concern,” Loki snapped, stepping closer to the glass. “I’m here to deliver the news of your fate. I must say, it’s quite grim.”

“That isn’t yours.” Odin shook his head with nearly the fervor of a madman, in a complete stupor. The uncharacteristic behavior intrigued me, but Loki disregarded it in his determination.

“Obviously, I plan to arrange an execution, taking place only after you’ve suffered what you put me through, of course. Any preferences as to the method? Beheading? Poison? Or perhaps it would be a better insult to injury if I were to hang you like some common criminal.”

“That’s Frigga’s. My Frigga…” As Odin continued to ramble and eventually trailed off, an earth-shattering realization hit me. Killing him wouldn’t be an appropriate punishment, for he wanted to die. He didn’t want to live in a world where he was worthless and humiliated. Loki might as well let him out of the cell and restore him to the throne, for all the vengeance killing him would gain.

“Loki, wait,” I murmured, stepping up to join him and placing my hand on his shoulder. “We can’t kill him.”

“Are you truly feeling pity right now?”

“It’s what he wants, can’t you see? He wants to die so he doesn’t have to live a life like the one that’s ahead in this dungeon. Unfortunately for us, if we kill him, it’s almost certain he’ll go to Valhalla and be in paradise for all of eternity. Do you really want that? Because that’s what you’d be giving him with an execution.”

“I suppose not.” Loki’s eyes became clouded with consideration, and he motioned for me to step ahead of him. “Would you like to do the honors?”

I agreed silently, taking my place and clearing my throat as I stared through the glass of the cell at the stupefied devil inside.

“We’ve changed our minds.” I commanded Odin’s full attention. “We won’t kill you, because then you’ll have exactly what you want. You’ll have a life in paradise, ruling over the heavens, rejoined with your ancestors, which I’m sure have to be as equally as vile in order to have produced you. You don’t deserve anything you’re currently wishing for.   
“You deserve a cold, lonely life full of grief and regret, never to see anyone or anything you love again. You deserve to be stuck in this monotony for so long that you begin to question your sanity, and whether your life before this cell was actually real or a mere dream. So, here’s where you’ll stay, forever, kept alive only for the purpose of your own suffering. I hope that someday Loki and I may forget you, but I guarantee that you’ll never forget about us.”

Now the one in control of the situation, I seized Loki’s hand, turned on my heel, and fled the dungeon. During our walk in, the distance to the prison had seemed eternal, but in my adrenaline-fueled departure, the transit seemed to last a blink of an eye. I was so honed in on my rage that it startled me once we emerged into the considerably brighter main corridors of the palace. Loki’s shoulders began to sag with relief as we cleared the dungeon’s entrance, yet I remained in a bewildered trance at the absence of my anger until he pulled us over to lean against a wall, letting out a long sigh.

“Do you feel better?” I inquired once I had regained my own senses.

“Much.” He straightened himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and patting his not-at-all disheveled hair back into its never-altered place. “I don’t entirely have a sense of closure, but I do believe that your decision brought better justice.”

“I’m glad we agree on that point.” I reached up to brush my thumb against his flushed cheek. “Now we can truly enjoy our time together without that looming over our heads.”

“Only until something else comes along.” He sought out my hand, matching up the sizes of our palms before grasping it fully.

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s certainly a pessimistic view.”

“Only a realistic one.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “No matter what comes, I’m confident that any trial will only bring us closer together. Now, I hate to leave so soon, but I’ve a meeting with the High Council about our decision concerning Odin. I’ll come to join you again once that’s finished.”

“I can’t wait.” I smiled my goodbye, but as I watched Loki turn a corner and vanish from my sight, a feeling of something not quite right settled in my stomach. Anxiously, I began the walk back to our chambers, gradually increasing my pace until I was sprinting into the bedroom, earning strange looks from the guards that accompanied me to the door, clearly annoyed that they were required to keep pace with me. At full speed, I burst into my wardrobe, turned my back to the full-length mirror that dominated its center, pulled my hair aside, and unfastened the collar of my dress, yanking it down to my waist and staring at the angry pink scars that marred my back, still tender to the touch.

I loathed Odin beyond description. He had put me through hell and a world of pain for no crime other than association. He had condemned Loki, his own son, to death in prison without so much as a second thought. I wanted that vile man to suffer as much as he possibly could. I wanted him to experience every awful thing that he had done to people a thousand times over. To think that I almost gave him what he wished for…

I crumpled onto the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest and breaking down about everything that had been cursing my mind. My chest heaved and my body racked with sobs, and my horrid scars began to tingle as their source became quite front-of-mind, my brain being forced to relive the horrid days they had been acquired. I remained crumpled into a ball that seemed far too small for my form to contort into for what seemed to be hours, letting out all of my pent-up emotion over the so-called noble king. Just when I thought no tears would come, another wave arrived, and soon my eyes stung as much as my back, my entire body shuddering and shaking in an attempt to draw breath.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and had not time to look to its owner before Loki pulled me to my trembling feet, holding me close to his body for both comfort and support.

“I hate him. I hate him so much. I want to beat him. I want to flay the flesh from his bones. I want to gauge out his only remaining eye with a…” My ramblings were cut off by an interlude of angry sobs. “He’s done such horrible things to both of us with no good reason to, and now a permanent reminder of him is plastered to my ruined body with those nasty scars.”

“Darling, calm yourself. It’s taken care of; it’s done. He’ll never hurt either of us again. And those scars could never ruin you. They make you who you are, a sign to the world of all you’ve been through; that you’re a force to be reckoned with.” Loki wiped my cheeks with his thumb and turned my back to the mirror, gazing into our reflection. “Though I suppose your mental scars are far greater than any physical mark, and any excess is therefore unneeded.”

He ran his hand along the skin of my back, and the scars disappeared into a barely-distinguishable green light as his palm grazed them. Once my skin was pale and unmarred once more, I turned my eyes away from my morphing reflection to his.

“Thank you.” I wrapped my arms around Loki’s torso, laying my head on his collar and drawing in a calming breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just broke down like that.”  
“You’ve been through so much the past few weeks. Don’t be ashamed of your tears. It’s completely understandable that such a release happened, and a wonder that you contained those emotions for so long.”

“You must not have seen my reaction to your supposed ‘death,’ then, because those emotions were not at all contained.” I swiped at my eyes once more, smiling in spite of myself as my words elicited a fond chuckle from Loki.

“Listen.” He grasped both of my hands. “Tomorrow we’ll go on an outing together, something we’ve never done, to get our minds off of all of this. I’ve been dying to finally have a proper opportunity to show you just how romantic I really am, and now I’ve the resources and ability to finally do that.”

“I think you’ve been quite romantic so far,” I assured.

“Well, I want to do it how I would if we had met under much more favorable circumstances. The moment the sun rises, we’ll be off. In the meantime, it’s gotten late, and the servants will become quite irritable if we keep them waiting. Shall we depart to the dining hall?” Loki refastened my dress, then snaked his hand around my waist to lead me into the corridor.

“Of course, my king.”

Loki suddenly stopped us both in the middle of the hallway, bending down to kiss me hard. “That title on your lips are jewels to my ears.”

“Well, then, maybe I should use it more often,” I declared, dazed from the contact.

“Yes.” He nudged me against the wall, pinning my arms above my head, holding me off floor with his hips against mine. “You should.”

We began to kiss once more, his hands knotting in my hair, mine resting behind his head. He trailed down my neck and began to nip at my collarbone, and I let out a soft moan, pushing at his neck to encourage him to continue.

“Your Majesty!”

The moment the high gasp reached our ears, we snapped apart, turning our attention to where a young servant stood with widened eyes, clutching a bottle of wine.

“Yes, well.” Loki drew in a deep breath, slightly resigned as he attempted to act as if nothing had happened. He released his possessive grip on me and extended his hand with a frustrated smile so that I could be more properly escorted. I made sure to make my expression more pleasant as I took his fingers, allowing myself to be led down flights of stairs and into a smaller sized dining room, yet bigger than the one we had breakfasted in, reminding myself that I was now living a very public lifestyle.

The servant that had caught us scurried in behind, bustling over to a side table and quickly filling a decanter, leaving the room as fast as possible. The two footmen that were already in the hall moved to pull out our chairs, but Loki dismissed them, hovering at my side with a hand on my shoulder as the butler proceeded to fill our goblets and depart.  
“Why are you standing like that? And why did you send the servants away?” I inquired. “You’re worrying me a bit.”

“I love you, darling,” Loki said suddenly, turning my chair so that I faced him, gazing down at me with such a fond expression that his eyes crinkled at the edges. “You’re such a kind soul.”

“I would think that the events of this morning would make you think otherwise.”

“Would you stop doubting yourself and let me finish, minn vænn kona?” His face brightened with laughter. “One like you should never have come to love someone as terrible and broken as me. But I’m grateful beyond words that you’ve stayed by my side, and so was Frigga.”

Out of thin air, he produced a small leather box, opening it before my eyes. Inside sat an emerald the size of a marble nestled into a bed of gold, the jewel floating from a chain of the same material.

“It has belonged to Frigga since I was an infant. It was made to show her love for me and acknowledge that I was her son. However, she wished for you to someday have it, and stated so in her will. I believe that, for you, she meant it to show that I will always be with you for protection and reassurance, no matter how far apart we might be.”

“Loki, it’s gorgeous,” I gasped, complying as he motioned for me to turn around so that he could fasten it about my neck. Once it rested on my sternum, I held the jewel between my fingers and swirled it from side to side so that it caught the light.

“Frigga wore it every day and cherished what it symbolized. I hope that you will come do the same.”

“I absolutely will. I love it.” I stretched up onto my toes to press my lips to his. “Thank you so much.”

He kissed the top of my head once my heels had regained contact with the floor. “It is a precious thing, I agree, but it is not close to what you deserve, for you changed my life. I never thought I would ever love. At first I believed that I would never find anyone to have that feeling for, but as I grew older I began to believe that I was completely incapable of it. For over a thousand years I held that mindset. And then you, ever the one to alter the course of history, changed that with one look.”

***

As I slept that night, the emerald still around my neck, I dreamt. Once I drifted off, my eyes opened of their own accord to reveal the bedroom bathed in a soft light as if from fire-fueled lamps, but I soon realized that the glow was emitting from a person. I jolted upright to discover the source, and discovered Frigga perched on the side of the bed.

I gasped. “How are you- Loki, wake up!” I reached down to shake his shoulder, but my hand passed right through his form as if he was made from mist.

“You’re no longer in his dimension, dear. For this moment, in your dream, you are in mine. You will not be able to rouse him in this state, but this is the only way I may communicate with you, now.” She patted my hand, then held my necklace in her palm. “I am glad you finally received the jewel. The moment I began to see love in Loki’s eyes, I enchanted it so that I could easily contact you should something such as my death happen. I possess some abilities in premonition, and frequent visions of that event had been plaguing me since Thor brought his mortal love to Asgard.”

“Why would you need to communicate with me, though? Why not Loki? He misses you so.”

“All of that will be answered soon, but unfortunately I’ve not much time before I begin to fade. Our communication will soon grow in strength as the jewel becomes accustomed to you, but as of right now its power has not yet had time to grow. Tonight, I simply came to tell you that I approve of the relationship between you and my son with all of my heart. Protect him, please, in all aspects, as I’m no longer here to do so. Don’t allow him to walk away because his insecurities cause him to believe that you would be better off without him. And until we meet again, remember that I’m always here for you, should you ever have need of me.”

She cast another pointed glance at my jewel, kissed my cheek, then disappeared as everything faded to black.


	14. Chapter 14

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking several times to adjust to the blinding light that shone in through the towering window, the pine-hued drapes bunched up at the sides. After shielding myself from the brightness for a few moments, I let my hand drop, toying with the hem of the sheets, contemplating the night’s events.

Why did Frigga need to enchant that jewel to contact me? Loki needed her more than I did. With my thoughts, the necklace grew heavy on my chest and I picked it up, holding it between my fingers and studying it intently.

As I riddled through the issue backwards and forwards, I felt the bed shift next to me as Loki began to kiss my hair softly.

“Good morning, love,” he murmured hoarsely.

Despite my confusion, I turned to face him and conjured up a smile. “Morning, handsome.”

“You were stirring in your sleep last night,” he commented, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me closer. “Were you dreaming?”

“Mmhm.” I attempted to worm out of discussing the subject, but my uncharacteristically short reply didn’t fool Loki.

“What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

“It’s not that.” Relenting, I pulled myself into a sitting position. “Loki, I dreamt of Frigga. Well, it was more of a vision, actually. All of a sudden, I woke up and she was here, sitting on the edge of the bed. I tried to wake you, too, but you were completely frozen in time. She and I spoke for a bit and it turns out that this necklace-“ I closed my fingers around the emerald, “-allows her to communicate with me from Valhalla. That must have been why she wanted me to have it. But I don’t know why she would need to communicate with me; she was your mother, and you need her more than I do.”

Loki rose up to join me and ran a hand through his mussed hair. “Yes and no. Of course I miss her and wish she was here, but I think she wants me to learn to live with the absence of her presence. If she was communicating with me from the afterlife, I would never move on and would constantly live in the past. It is hard to hear that someone else is receiving attention from her, but I know she has a reason for what she’s doing. She was quite an accomplished seer, so perhaps she’s foreseen something you’ll need her help with.”

“Oh.” I bit my lip. “I was worried you’d be angry or upset with me.”

“I have no right to be. Those visits aren’t your doing.” He cupped my cheek. “Though I must admit that I hope you feel bad enough to pass along messages and information to her for me.”

“All you have to do is ask,” I assured. “Although, the thought of what she might have prophesied frightens me a bit. I hoped I was past the difficult part of my life.”

“So did I. But we’ve no idea what will happen, so all we can do is hope for the best. Today I hope to distract you from your fears.” Loki pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve a few very special events planned, and we can begin as soon as I’ve taken care of a few things around the palace.”

“Well, you go attend to your kingly duties and I’ll get ready.” I promptly stood up from the bed, straightened my silken, shift-style nightgown, and made my way to the bathing room.

“Are you so eager to be rid of me?” Loki teased, crawling out of the bed to follow me. “Why have you bid me to leave so soon? I never said anything about those tasks being urgent.”

“I want our day to begin as soon as possible, and,” I ducked behind the door and grabbed the handle from the inside, “I’m going to be taking a shower. I don’t want you getting any ideas.”

I shut the door, waited a few moments, then opened it again.

“I’m not taking my eyes off of you until you’re out of here.”

Loki chuckled as he relented. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to go.”

I watched him intently as he exited the room, then made sure he was truly gone before stepping fully into the bathing room, which was reached by a door past the washbasins. The shower was a spacious chamber in the far-left corner of the room, and parallel to that was a wooden yet luxurious tub, along with a many-rowed shelf stocked full of towels, soaps, oils, perfumes, and a few basic healing remedies.

I approached the shelf to collect my a vial of rose-scented soap and placed a couple of towels on a warmer beside the shower before shedding my nightgown and stepping into the chamber, where I needed to only push a red button as opposed to a blue before water spilled out of the wide spout at just the temperature I wanted it.

Once I finished showering, I made my way to the wardrobe, flipping through countless rows dresses that did not at all capture my eye. They were all undeniably beautiful, and I was eager to wear them some other time, but for an unknown reason, none of them seemed quite right for the day. Just when I was about to become frustrated, however, I was distracted by a subtle shimmer of gold. I rushed to find where it came from, and discovered a gown of the deepest green. The neckline had a slight pinch and extended outward so that the sleeves began past my shoulders, fitting razor-slim to my arms; and the skirt had just enough body to give the waist a flattering shape. The gown was free of any beading or embroidery, but that made it no less gorgeous, for some sort of gold dust seemed to be embedded into the fabric, so that when the dress was still, it appeared the most beautiful shade of green one could imagine, but the moment it came into motion, the entire thing seemed alight with golden stars.

Elated at the concept of wearing something so enchanting, I hurried to dress and continue on with the day’s preparations by styling my hair and applying my makeup. When that was finished, I put on my circlet, arranged the emerald so that it rested nicely on my chest, and draped a black hooded cloak over my shoulders, then declared myself ready and strode over to the main door of the chambers.

“I know you’re out there,” I announced as I departed into the hallway and found Loki leaning slyly against the wall, dressed in casual armor. The grin on his lips indicated that he was preparing some wisecrack or prank, but it faded when his mouth parted as he took in the sight of me.

“Gods,” he gasped, approaching me slowly. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“I’m flattered that you think so.” I felt a flush creeping up my neck as I waited for him to say something else, but he merely resumed staring at me. Eventually, I broke him from his stupor.

“If you keep standing there looking at me, we’ll never get a start on our day.”

“Oh, yes. My apologies.” He offered me his arm, and as I took it, he guided me on the long walk out of the palace and its gates, into the eyes of the people of Asgard.

“Loki!” I gasped quietly as I came to a realization. “The citizens- they still believe Odin is king, not to mention that they’re under the impression that you’re dead! What will they think when they see you strolling around the city, perfectly alive?”

“Don’t fret,” he assured. “I’ve cast a spell on us. To the people, we appear to be a visiting lord and lady, concerned for the health of the old man.”

“Alright.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to a few of my favorite places in Asgard. All of these locations were havens of a sort for me, and hold very special memories of my childhood.”

“That sounds wonderful. Where first?”

“This way.” We turned sharply and he led me down an empty pathway that snaked into a lush green forest. “My hiding place was at the heart of these woods. Every time I was upset, I would gather my books and come out here to be alone. I’ve never shared this spot with anyone, not even Frigga. This pathway was even created by me, and is only accessible to someone that’s in my presence.”

As Loki pulled away branches so that I could duck under them and pushed aside plants to clear my path, it became apparent that he had visited this spot many times and knew it perfectly. After a few minutes of walking, we reached a small yet beautiful clearing, dotted with yellow wildflowers despite the winter weather. A gushing stream was also visible in the background, the sound of the babbling water providing an air of serenity. A wide stump resided in front of a large tree to create a chair of some sort, and Loki’s large grin was enough to add magic to the air.

“Loki, this is amazing!” I threw my arms out and spun. “I wish I had a place like this when I was a child.”

“When I was here, I would always pick bouquets of flowers for Mother,” he knelt down and plucked up a few blossoms to hand to me, “and practiced magic by carving things into the trees.” He waved his hand, and on the tree supporting the stump, an invisible hand whittled out “L+C.”

“I know that’s childish.” He gestured at the carving, ducking his head sheepishly.

“A childhood spot is a place to do childish things. I love it.” I sat down on the forest floor and encouraged him to join me.

“Then you wouldn’t object to a picnic?” Loki conjured up a beautifully weaved wicker basket with a white cloth covering the contents, a bottle of wine protruding from the side.

“Of course not.” I grinned. “As a theme of the day, I’d love it.”

***

After our lunch, Loki led me back into the city and directly towards the belly of a bustling marketplace.

“Despite my dislike of crowds, the market was always a treasured experience for me,” he narrated. “I used to always come here for meals when I didn’t like what was being served at the palace, which was often, as well as to practice new magic on unsuspecting citizens.”

I gasped through a laugh. “That’s naughty.”

“I think you’ll come to find, love, that nothing has changed on that count.” Loki chuckled, then approached a booth where a weathered old man sold large cups of a rich brown liquid. “Two, please.”

The man prepared and handed us our cups as Loki produced a leather pouch filled with coins. Once my glass was handed to me, I raised it to my lips and took an eager swig. The drink was warm and chocolatey, with a hint of some sort of berry, not unlike hot chocolate on Earth, but much, much better. Smacking my lips, I took in another generous swig.

“How fares the king?” The old man inquired as Loki counted counted out coppers.

“Not well,” Loki replied, wrapping his arm around my waist. “He is bedridden, and could barely speak to us.”

“Poor man. The death of his queen must have sent him over the edge.” The vendor began to clean an empty cup. “If Prince Thor has abdicated the throne, who is to be his heir?”

“His second son,” Loki replied coolly. I stole a glance up at him, shocked that he was making that confession right then.

The man’s eyes widened. “Is he not dead?”

“That was recently proven to be a false report. Loki is very much alive, and legitimate heir to the throne.”

The vendor slammed the cup down. “Then Asgard is doomed.”

Loki stiffened beside me. “For your information, I have just spoken to Asgard’s next king. He regrets the mistakes he’s made, and is trying his hardest to rectify them. He has only good intentions, and I believe he will put Asgard in the best state it’s seen in years.”

The man only scoffed. “That is deception. His conquering ambitions will drive us to a universal war, and once that’s started, he’ll simply sit back in all his wealth and power, using us as his puppets to play tricks on whilst we all die for his poor choices.”

“He will only do so if you don’t accept him. He is truly trying his hardest to become the best king he can be,” Loki spat. “Now, tell those who share your opinion that, before they go along judging things that are none of their concern, and making the same mistake you’ve made.”

“Let’s go someplace else,” I whispered in his ear, wrapping my fingers around his tensed arm to lead him away. Surprisingly, he complied quickly.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Loki murmured as we fled the marketplace. “This was supposed to be a happy day.”

“It is!” I insisted. “One bitter citizen can’t ruin it. You and I know better, and it’s only a matter of time before the people start changing their minds about you as well.”

“You’re right.” Loki molded his face back into a pleasant expression. “I can’t let him make a mess of our day, especially when I’ve more things to show you.” He began to lead me back towards the palace.

“What’s next?” I asked eagerly.

“My secret library.” Loki smirked.

I cocked an eyebrow. “You have a secret library?”

“In fact, I do.” 

Once behind the palace’s doors, Loki led me into a small servant’s closet in a corridor just beyond the main entryway and began to probe the wall. 

“I discovered this chamber by happenstance when I was a boy,” he said, brow furrowing in his search. “It was quiet and comfortable, so I decided to fill it with books and hide there to escape Odin’s frequent wrath.”

He finally located a miniscule latch and pulled it, a concealed door sliding open to reveal a dark, narrow staircase. Loki paused at the top to ignite a torch, then took my hand to help me down the steep steps, pulling me to his side as the staircase opened into a wide chamber, every inch of the walls covered with books. He stepped over to light the fireplace with the torch, and two plush chairs appeared out of nowhere for us to sit.

“Each one of these was cherished by me.” Loki began to browse the seemingly never ending rows, running his fingers along the aged volumes. “I took them gradually so that no one would catch onto what I was doing. The librarians did notice things going missing, but luckily they just thought that one of the staff members was negligent with organization and never seriously looked into anything.”

“I’m so envious.” I settled down in front of the fire, warming my hands. “When I was on the run, if I wanted to read something, I had to hide out in a bookstore all day. If I came across anything particularly long, I’d have to leave before I finished, and by the time I’d get to another place to finish it, I’d have lost my place and be forced spend precious time trying to find it before I could even continue.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Loki selected something off of the shelf and came to sit next to me. “This spot is yours now, too.”

After Loki showed me the book, worn in a well-loved sort of way, containing all of his favorite childhood stories, he led me out of the library and to the very top floor of the palace, contained in a tower like a fairytale. He guided me to where a glass door opened to a large balcony, which was so beautiful that it drew a gasp from my lips.

Rose bushes curled around every surface, a small marble fountain gushed in a corner, and the entire city was visible from our spot. Dark had fallen, and the night sky revealed stars and planets and galaxies, more than I could ever dream to witness with my own eyes, and small golden orbs the size of berries twinkled as they floated around the area, and from somewhere resonated ethereal music. Awed, I shed my cloak and dazedly stepped out to join Loki.

“Where is that music coming from?” I questioned, not able to contain my smile.

“It’s the orbs. They play whatever you’d like to hear.” Loki gestured a few over with a wave of his hand, and they circled my head playfully for a few moments before dissipating back to nestle amongst the flowers.

“What do you hear?” I whispered.

“I hear something romantic.” Loki pulled me to him, one hand at my waist, another lacing around mine. “I hear something to dance to.”

And so we began to dance to our eternal music, no words needed to express our feelings. He held me gently, as if the slightest touch could break me, and I let my head fall on his shoulder as he nuzzled my hair. After I became dizzy with love, he put his hand under my chin and kissed me deeply, then leaned down to whisper in my ear.

“There’s one more thing I must show you.”

I regretfully followed Loki out of the beautiful garden, but soon grasped his hand in excitement as to what our next destination could be and wonderment of how it could possibly compare to where we had just come from. When we stopped in front of the entrance to our chambers, however, I glanced at him in confusion. He simply smiled reassuringly and guided me inside and towards our bedroom, biting his lip in anticipation as he opened the door.

Candles were lit around the vicinity, and rose petals were scattered around the turned-down bed. The lights were dimmed, and a few of the orbs from the balcony were hovering near the high ceiling, playing the same song as before.

“Loki?” I tilted my head to the side as he came up behind me and began to kiss my neck. “What is this about?”

He spun me around and pressed his lips to mine before pulling back to stare at me with dark eyes.

“My love for you is so deep and true that words cannot express it,” he breathed, “If I have your consent, I’d like to attempt to do so through alternate methods.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is straight smut. Graphic, but not overly explicit.

“Mm.” I let my head fall to the side as Loki began to pepper my neck with slow kisses. “That sounds nice. I’d like that.”

“Would you, now?” Loki murmured teasingly onto my skin, then pulled away to adopt a solemn tone, holding my waist tightly. “Only if you want to, though. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it yet.”

“Loki.” I took his face in my hands. “I want to, I promise. I must admit, this is a little sudden and I wasn’t expecting it, but I really don’t mind. I want this with you. No cold feet, I swear.” I slipped out of my shoe and wiggled my toes against his leg playfully.

“I just wanted to make sure.” He chuckled lightly as he pulled me into an embrace, starting in on my neck again, trailing up to my jaw. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

“I never doubted that.” I brought his head up so that I could smile reassuringly at him, brushing my lips against his.

“Now, let’s start with that dress of yours,” he decided, voice growing huskier by the second. “It’s lovely, really. One of my favorites. However- “

“Let me guess,” I interrupted, tangling my fingers in his raven locks. “It would look better on the floor.”

“Precisely.” He grinned, and as he began to kiss me once more, his hands found their way onto my back. They stayed there much longer than I expected, and after a while I figured he was simply giving me a soothing back rub, until he growled in frustration:

“Camryn, where’s the damn fastening on this thing?”

“I didn’t tell you?” I pulled away and blinked at him innocently. “It laces.”

“Well, well,” Loki clucked, mischief glimmering in his eyes. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

I stared at him inquisitively, and with a single, firm snap of his fingers, my gown was gone, and suddenly I was standing before him in nothing but my underwear. The leather of his armor brushed and tugged against my skin exquisitely, and his cold hands roaming my body made me shiver in delight, a strange heat forming in my belly and an unfamiliar flutter rising between my legs.

“Loki I-don’t-know-your-middle-name,” I scolded to hide the fact that I had absolutely no idea what to do. “I love that dress, so it had better not be floating around in a void somewhere.”

“It’s back in your wardrobe, perfectly safe, I promise.” He grinned devilishly as he reached around and ran his hands down my backside. “Now, let’s focus on the important things, shall we?”

“Yeah, but how is this fair?” I teased. “I’m in nothing but my underwear and you’re fifty layers of leather over there.”

“Fine, as you wish.” Lo snapped his fingers again, and his armor vanished to reveal a pale chest seeming to be carved from marble and a pair of statuesque legs, clothed only by black boxers. “Is that better?”

“Much,” I declared, drawing him in once more.

“Now, would you please just let me get a look at you?” he sighed in mock exasperation.

“If you command, my king.” I reluctantly stepped out of his arms, positioning myself a couple of feet before him, watching as he drank in the sight of me.

“Green is a lovely color on you, my dear,” he praised, voice thick with lust. “You ought to wear it more often.”

“You’re only saying that because you like it so much,” I japed, holding my hands out for him. He approached me slowly, cradling my face in his hands, then sliding them down to my shoulders. He traced my collarbones gently with his middle fingers, light enough that it almost frustrated me, bringing out the urge to seize his wrists and force him to be rough with me. I resisted as his hands skipped down my stomach, and he stared up at me with gleaming emerald eyes as he sunk to his knees, planting kisses up and down my legs and hips. Every time he would come near my core it would flutter urgently and the heat in my belly would grow more intense, but he seemed particularly keen to avoid that area.

When Loki returned to his feet once more, I grasped the back of his neck and pulled him towards me, kissing him with an animalistic need. He snaked his hands around the back of my thighs, signaling for me to jump as he backed me up to the wall. His movements grew hungry, less measured and controlled, his mission to be gentle faltering as his need for me engulfed him.

“Don’t you think- we should- go to the bed?” I panted when we finally pulled away for air.

“You’re full of lovely ideas tonight, darling,” he breathed against my neck, then in a swift maneuver switched my position and carried me bridal-style to the prepared bed, laid me gently on my back, slightly propped up on the plush pillows, and hovered over me. I giggled as rose petals made their way into my hair, plucking one from the strands and letting it flutter back to the sheets, but the look of raw, unbound love on Loki’s face stayed me.

“Well, are you just going to sit there and look at me, or are you going to kiss me?” I whispered, breath trembling.

As he leaned down, his movements became careful and tender once more, his kisses gentle and full of affection. He held me as if I was made of glass, and he dragged his lips down my neck as softly as a whisper, murmuring barely audible praises as he went.

His hands finally snaked around my back and found the clasp of my bra, and his gaze once again met mine, as if asking for approval. I nodded slightly, and he pulled the fabric of off my body at an agonizingly slow pace, the cool air hitting my skin in a rush and causing me to shiver.

As Loki’s eyes searched my exposed body, I was suddenly reminded of everything wrong with me: my flat chest, my bony, androgynous body, my scarred skin, as well as numerous other things. Suddenly overwhelmed with insecurity, I crossed my arms over my chest and rolled to my side, concealing my form.

“Love, what’s wrong?” Not attempting to pull me back over, Loki placed his hand on my shoulder and brushed my hair out of my face, gently caressing the high point of my cheekbone with the backside of his index finger.

“I’m not good enough for you,” I whispered, blinking tears away. “Not attractive enough, not… womanly enough.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” he murmured, bringing my hand to his mouth and kissing it softly. “We still don’t have to if you don’t want to, but just know that I think you’re perfect. You’re exactly what I want. We wouldn’t be in this situation if you weren’t.”

I sniffled, reaching up and wiping a rogue tear from my eye. After a few measured breaths and silent comforting from Loki, I finally mustered up the courage to roll over to my back and let my arms drop to my sides. My stomach knotted as Loki looked me up and down, and I suddenly feared he wasn’t pleased with what he saw. After a few agonizing seconds, he finally dipped down, latching his mouth over my right breast and palming my left. I gasped at the sudden sensation, shocked at the pleasure. He captured my nipple between his teeth and tugged gently, massaging the other between his thumb and forefinger. I hummed deep in my throat, unsure of what to do as I squirmed beneath him in delight.

“Beautiful,” Loki murmured, pulling away to plant a kiss in the center of my chest. “Absolutely perfect.”

As he moved his mouth to my other breast, a moan slipped through my lips, but I silenced it quickly. He glanced up at me, eyes almost completely glazed over with lust.  
“Don’t hold back, darling,” he begged, breathing heavily. “Let go of your reservations. Let your instinct take over.”

As he returned to his ministrations, I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to relax and let my mouth hang slightly open. To my surprise, when Loki found one of my sweet spots, a long, wanton moan slipped from my lips, a sound I didn’t think I was capable of. Loki, clearly pleased, chuckled against my skin, moving up to kiss me on the lips once again. I nearly melted at that point, but fully realized what was to come next, and my heart began to pound in nerves I desperately tried to hide.

“Are you still alright?” Loki inquired, searching my face for any sign of regret.

“Yes, I promise.” I ran my hand across his cheek, reaching behind his head to lock my fingers into his hair like an anchor. After my assurance and approval, he leaned down once again, planting his lips on my skin and dragging them down the length of my body, halting at the waistband of my panties. I sucked in a breath as he hooked his fingers around the edge and slid the fabric down my legs, exposing me completely to him. However, before I could even think, before insecurity could even cross my mind, he pulled my legs apart and pressed his tongue to me.

“O-oh, Loki,” I gasped, squirming at the surprising pleasure.

He chuckled, running his hands up and down my thighs. “I thought you’d like that,” he murmured, smirking.

“Don’t- don’t stop,” I whispered, practically drunk on the sensation.

“I wasn’t planning on it, my love,” he assured, leaning back down and this time delving his tongue inside me. My breathing quickened and I clutched the sheets as he hit exactly the right spots. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, it did, the heat boiling within me growing more intense by the second. The pleasure built and built and just as I was about to be pushed over the edge, he pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” I breathed. “Why did you stop?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Loki worked his way back up and kissed my neck roughly, nipping at my skin, eliciting another groan from deep in my throat. “I just don’t want you finishing yet.”

“Well, when then?” I inquired, my tone barely short of a whine.

“Soon, my love. Very soon.”

“Please,” I whimpered, wrapping my arms around his torso. “I need you.”

“And you shall have me.” Loki placed his hands on top of mine and guided them down to the waistline of his boxers. Taking a deep breath, I mustered up the courage to slide them off his body, revealing his large, erect length. I gasped softly, unsure of what to think as I took in the sight of him.

“Do you like what you see?” He murmured, gauging my reaction as I had his when I revealed myself.

“You’re perfect, I replied, stroking his cheekbones with my thumbs. Our lips met once again, and as it grew more passionate, I felt him position himself at my entrance.

“Are you ready?” he questioned, resting his forehead against mine.

“Yes,” I breathed. “I am.”

“Just remember, it’s never too late to stop if you don’t want to continue.” He planted a kiss on my brow and began to slowly press himself inside of me. I shut my eyes and whimpered slightly as I felt myself stretch to accommodate his size, a dull pain rising between my thighs. However, I tried to focus on Loki as his face contorted in pleasure and a deep moan resonated through his chest. Once he was fully buried inside of me, he gasped slightly, eyes half-lidded and lips pulled back in a strange smile, teeth clenched.

“You feel…positively exquisite, my darling,” he praised.

“So do you,” I murmured as I finally adjusted to him. He buried his face in my neck and pulled out slightly before thrusting back in again, gentle and slow. A final wave of pain coursed through me, sharp and fast, but it soon faded and I was lost to the pleasure.

“Harder,” I begged. “Faster.”

“Are you sure?” Loki panted.

In reply, I wrapped my legs around him and dug my heels into his back, groaning in ecstasy as he complied. Loki’s hot breath tickled my neck and each one of his moans vibrated throughout my body, only increasing the already immense pleasure.

“Oh, Loki,” I gasped. “You’re so wonderful.”

“As are you, my darling.” He threw his head back, raven locks splaying out against his pale skin. “As. Are. You.”

Suddenly a new kind of pleasure engulfed me, growing more and more intense with each thrust. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better…

“Loki, I think I’m going to- “

I cut myself off with a scream of euphoria as I reached my climax. My entire body pulsed and black spots appeared in my vision as I began to shake, clawing at Loki’s skin as he pounded into me even harder. Just as the sensation began to fade, it was rekindled and prolonged as Loki too began to come, twitching and pulsing within me, moaning my name all the time, pulling me closer than I ever thought I could be.

When we had both finished, Loki pulled himself out of me and positioned himself on his back, pulling me to his chest as we both came down from our highs. He buried his lips in my hair and caressed my shoulder with his thumb, and I sighed in content as the sound of his gradually slowing heartbeat lulled me into a stupor.

“That’s the… the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life,” I declared, tilting my head to stare up at my lover.

“I’m glad to hear that I’ve given you the same amount of pleasure that you’ve brought me,” Loki replied, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smile.

“Think we could beat it?” I challenged, rolling over to my belly and propping myself up on my elbows.

“I didn’t know this was a competition.” Loki cocked an eyebrow. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“Round two,” I purred, tipping his chin up with my index finger. “And this time, I’m on top.”


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, the steady thump of Loki’s heartbeat greeted me from slumber, so comforting that it almost lulled me back to sleep. With a broad grin, I propped myself up on my elbow and studied his sleeping face. He looked much different than in waking hours; more peaceful, features that were usually pragmatically held softened into complete relaxation, his breathing soft and deep. It was in his sleep I got a glimpse of what he might have looked like as a worriless child, before his corruptions. In cherishing the image, I couldn’t resist leaning down and pressing a kiss to each of his closed eyelids, and, as I predicted, they fluttered open.

“Good morning, love,” he greeted in a thick, husky tone, almost appearing confused as he slowly made his way into a sitting position. His waking state was perhaps the most innocent I had ever seen from him.

“Morning, darling.” I placed a quick peck on his lips. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than I have in a long while.” Loki tucked stray strands of my hair behind my ear. “And yourself?”

“Very well, thank you,” I replied almost playfully.

In my current position, my head propped up on my elbow, the covers falling from my shoulders, I became very aware I was naked, and the cool air filtering in from the open window chilled my exposed skin. Shivering a bit, I rolled out of the bed and crossed over to the wardrobe, pulling on an undershirt of Loki’s and a sheer emerald dressing gown with black fur cuffs.

“Are you sore?” Loki inquired as I tied the velvet belt, noticing my slightly halting gait.

“A bit, but I’ve had worse,” I replied, tumbling back down into my previous spot while Loki harrumphed as if disappointed.

“What was that for?” I exclaimed.

“I wanted to render you utterly unable to walk.” In a swift motion, he had me flat on my back and hovered over me. “Why don’t I fix my mistake, hm?”

“Last night you were all about being gentle, and now you want to hurt me?” I joked, playacting at some tears. “How could you be so cruel to me?”

“We’ll see just how far my cruelty can go when I start teasing,” he assured, but when the tall clock in the room began to chime out nine ‘o’ clock, he groaned and rolled off me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting back up.

“Today’s a big day. I would love to stay here in this bed with you for hours, but we have to get going.”

“What’s the big event?” I waggled my eyebrows coyly. “Since we’ve already done it the traditional way, are we going to go to the dining hall and rut in front of the servants?”

“If I knew having sex with you would make you so cheeky, I would have done it much sooner,” Loki chuckled, reaching around and squeezing my backside.

“I’m sure you would have.” I giggled. “But really, why is today such a big day?”

“It’s the day we’re going to stage Odin’s death,” he replied, tone darkening to one of solemnity.

“Well that dampens the mood.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I had planned to do it soon, but that vendor’s comment yesterday made me want to prove to the people of Asgard that I will not be the wretched king they think I’m going to become.” Loki sucked in a breath. “I sent out a decree for a public announcement at four ‘o’ clock, open to every citizen that wishes to attend. At that hour, you and I, along with a regiment of guards, will emerge on the balcony overlooking the most public courtyard of the palace, and announce that the man is dead. Shortly afterward we will host his funeral, burning a false body I will produce, then attend the feast honoring his name, a much more exclusive affair. I will likely get chided for having the funeral so soon with such hasty preparations, but I have a plan for an excuse that’s not ‘I wanted to do away with this situation as quickly as possible’.”

I swallowed, contemplating the small timeline from when Loki first took Odin captive to now.

“This is all happening so fast,” I whispered.

“It will slow down soon, I promise. Then we can fully enjoy ourselves.” Loki cupped my cheek before rising from the bed, his armor materializing onto his previously naked body. “Now, I must go deliver the news to the old man.”

***

“Loki, is that you?” I called out as I heard two doors open and shut, preceding the sound of footsteps into the bedchamber. When he answered in the affirmative, I stepped out of the wardrobe and away from the full-length mirror, presenting myself to him.

“Am I dressed appropriately?”

I had selected an unadorned black velvet gown with a moderate train, the straight neckline resting above my collarbones and the long sleeves coming to a point just below my knuckles. On top of the modest updo of my hair I wore the circlet, and over that I draped a sheer black veil that brushed the floor both in front of and behind me.

“Very appropriate,” he appraised. “I never thought I’d find a mourning habit becoming.”

“You never thought a lot of things before you met me,” I reminded with a cheeky wink, then cast a glance over at the clock. “It’s almost time. I know for a fact the guards have gathered the citizens, because I’ve been able to hear them since this morning, all crowding in and clamoring over the situation.”

“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t delay any longer.” Loki, already seeming worn out by the day’s events, draped a luscious black fur over his armor. “The sooner we get on with things, the sooner we get these unwanted guests away from the palace.”

“I just have one more question before we go,” I said just as we were about to cross the threshold of our chambers. Loki looked at me expectantly, and I continued. “The people have never seen me before; they have no idea who I am. Surely they’ll be curious to know who that woman standing awfully close to the king is. Do they know I’m Midgardian?”

“My guess is that, for today, at least, people will be so preoccupied with Odin that they’ll hardly notice you. However, I know your presence will draw attention when people reflect on the day’s events. If anybody asks, I’ll tell them that you’re my courtesan, a duchess from Niflheim. We’re quite disconnected with that realm, yet they have a feudal system similar to ours, so the story should be plausible.”

I cocked an eyebrow to lighten the mood. “Isn’t ‘courtesan’ a polite term for a prostitute or paramour?”

“Well, after last night, I suppose you are my paramour.” To my relief, Loki played along. “I’ll make sure it’s understood that our relationship is very proper, and not at all scandalous.”

“Thank you very much. I’d hate to be ostracized before I was even really introduced into society.”

“Well, being connected to me, you might be ostracized regardless.”

I opened my mouth for a reproach, but a guard approached the scene, looking at the two of us expectantly. Loki hardened back up immediately. Almost robotically, he extended his arm for me to take and led me to the complete opposite side of the palace, marching down several flights of stairs before we emerged on a balcony, which jutted out considerably far from the building and hung quite low over a courtyard just outside of the palace gates. The balcony was enclosed by a sturdy gold dome that parted as Loki and I began to walk towards the railing, a hush falling over the crowd as our forms were revealed. I wanted to look out and observe every one of their faces to see what more of the non-royal life of Asgard was like, but I forced myself to avert my eyes to the ground, assuming that it would be more appropriate for announcing the death of a king, no matter how much I despised that king.

“The Allfather is dead,” Loki called out in a sonorous and solemn tone. A wave of whispers washed over the space that soon escalated into a cacophony of shouts, wails, and thousands of voices all speaking at once, causing Loki to have to make a big effort to talk over the din.

“He was lost to the illness that has plagued him for many months now,” he continued, hair blowing back behind him in the cold breeze that snapped almost painfully at my cheeks, making him appear more regal than ever. “His funeral, a celebration of his well-lived life, will be held tonight.”

Once he finished speaking, Loki observed the crowd, lip eventually curling upwards in distaste at the melodramatic reaction from the people, who were showing fierce dedication to a despicable man. I felt the same thing Loki did, yet was less adept at concealing it, for I gnawed on my lips, clutched so tightly at my skirts that I nearly ripped them, and visibly shook in anger. Loki turned his body to shield me from the view of the crowd, wrapping his arm around my waist and speaking with his lips against my temple.

“Come. There’s no further reason for us to be out here.”

He turned and led us back inside, the dome coming down in equal time with our exit from the balcony, and when we entered the palace, he slammed the door behind him so hard it rattled. With gritted teeth, he hurried us back up to our bedroom and left me to plop down on the bed, absentmindedly passing me a handkerchief and beginning to pace along our parlor.

“Just need to tune it out for now,” he whispered shakily, more to himself than to me. “They’ll see soon enough. They’ll all see.”

***

When the time for the funeral ceremony arrived, the common citizens migrated to a prepared spot by the sea overlooking a waterfall that filtered into nothingness, the nobility following in horse-drawn carriages. In mine and Loki’s, I sat with one hand intertwined in his and the other cupping my chin, my elbow resting on the sill of the opened window. Appropriately, it was an excessively cloudy night, so I could not even have the enjoyment of observing the beautiful night sky that Asgard had, displaying millions of other stars, planets, moons, and galaxies, giving one a true estimation of the vastness of the universe.

When we arrived at the location, Loki and I took our places towards the side of a slightly raised section of ground at the fore of the group. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who had agreed to perform the ceremony in place of Loki, stood in the center. I gripped Loki’s hand under my black muff, and the two of us watched emotionlessly as the pyre carrying the decoy of Odin’s body was burned and cast into the void. Once the short ceremony was over, a few citizens, some weeping and some stoic, approached us to pay their respects before returning to their homes, and the nobility began to file back towards their carriages to return to the palace for the feast.

The dinner was a heartier environment, and the hall was filled with loud voices and laughter. As the guests ate and exchanged glamorous stories about Odin, Loki sat at the head of the table and I at his right hand, both of us remaining completely silent, staring at either our food or each other, communicating our disgust through tired facial expressions.

Praying for the event to be over soon, throughout the feast I only gulped down two goblets of wine and picked at a dinner roll that had long since gone cold. The entire day, I had felt a bit lightheaded and strangely hot, and the feelings only increased as the night went on. I wanted to stay and support Loki in his struggle, but when I reached the point where I couldn’t see straight and was swaying in my seat, I knew I needed to go lay down. I whispered a brief explanation of the situation in Loki’s ear, and he sent me off with a kiss to the hand and the promise of joining me soon. I sluggishly stood and dragged my feet out of the dining hall, utterly unnoticed by the nostalgic crowd.

The reason for the sudden bout of sickness worried and eluded me as I trudged to our apartments, but I stopped caring when I entered the bedchamber, my mind occupied with only the thought of changing out of my gown and collapsing onto the bed, laying there in a half-awake state without even getting under the blankets.

Loki returned from the feast just as I was drifting off to sleep, the sound of his exhausted sigh preceding his entrance. He tutted a bit at my situation, picking me up and placing me in a more comfortable position before draping the covers over my body and sliding into bed behind me, kissing the crown of my head and wrapping his arm around my waist.

“It’s finally over,” he murmured against my ear, and with that, I sank into the curves of his body and fell asleep instantly.

That night, when I dreamt, it wasn’t of Frigga.

Instead, an enormous, violet-skinned man appeared before me, with a menacing grin and a gravelly voice.

“Remember me?” he sneered, his sadistic chuckle rumbling throughout the room. “My name is Thanos. You may not have met me directly, but I’m the one you’ve spent the past five years running from. You were never of much interest to me, and the ruining of your life was a simple yet necessary task, so I practically forgot about you. However, you’ve become of interest to me once again, and you’re just in the right place for me to snatch you This is an opportunity I simply can’t pass up.”

Images suddenly began to flash behind my eyelids rapidly, too fast to make out any bit of what they displayed, the montage blending into a terrifying mess of black and blue and white. The man’s cruel, lifeless laugh echoed in my ears, sending me into a fit of trembling and causing me to smash my hands over my ears and press as hard as my body would allow, and I began to shake my head with crazed fervor, squinting my eyes shut in an attempt to stop the flashing that absolutely refused to slow down.

I woke up screaming.


	17. Chapter 17

"Love, what's wrong?" Loki shook me gently as I began to heave choking, gut-wrenching sobs, burying myself in the haven of his chest and arms, grasping his shirt until my knuckles turned white.

"It was- it was..." I couldn't manage to get myself warm or string two words together, so instead I simply sat there helplessly, my entire form trembling.

"Shh, darling. It's alright. You're alright. It was just a nightmare," Loki consoled, taking me into his arms and rocking me back and forth.

"But it wasn't," I whimpered pitifully. Loki draped a blanket around my shoulders and rubbed my back to create heat from the friction, then pulled a thin rope that hung next to the bed to call for a servant. He continued to shush me as we waited for the arrival, and I continued to weep like I’d lost my mind.

"You called, my king?" the maid inquired softly as she appeared in our doorway, folding her hands and glancing warily at what I'm sure was an interesting scene.

"Bring her a cup of tea. The calming concoction from Vanaheim, preferably." Loki requested as he stroked my hair to reduce my sobs to quiet whimpers, and the servant nodded and promptly hurried away.

When she returned with the teacup, my hands were shaking too badly to hold it. Loki took it instead, holding it to my lips and helping me take a small sip. I let the hot liquid warm my body, my muscles relaxing and my rolling stomach quieting the more I took in, then opened my mouth to answer his previous questions.

"There was a- a man, with, um, purple skin. He said he was my father's enemy- the one that I was running from- and that he had almost forgotten about me but I suddenly became of interest to him again, so now he’s coming for me. Then I saw all these images, but there were so many and they were moving so fast that I couldn't make out what they were..." I buried my face in my hands, digging my fingernails into my scalp.

Loki prickled beside me, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "Did this man happen to mention his name?"

"Th-Thanos." I shivered as the horrible name left my lips.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Loki seized my shoulders, fingers digging into my skin and his expression so intense that it burned.

I regarded him fearfully. "Yes, why?"

Loki swore blisteringly, releasing me from his grasp and rising from the bed, raking his hands through his hair and pacing furiously across the bedroom.

"He was the one I reported to in the New York situation- the one I was supposed to bring the Tesseract to. We had highly unfavorable interactions for about a year before he actually sent me down to Earth, which I very much prefer to not remember right now. I was told that I would be severely punished if I didn't complete my task, and, well, I didn't. That fact has been lingering in the back of my mind ever since we lost. That man is capable of terrible things beyond what you can ever imagine. Things that should only be reserved for the absolute deepest circle of hell. And he has an excellent mastery of psychological and guilt torture. His contacting you has to be connected to me somehow."

"But that- that doesn't make sense.” I shook my head, unable to process a word Loki was saying. My trembling had reduced enough for me to grasp the teacup by myself, so I took an enormous gulp, trying to collect my reeling thoughts. “Thanos started hunting me down five years ago...long before any of this. But, on the other hand, how would he even know my father if this weren't connected to you? Why else would this godly, devil-like creature, as you’re describing him, target an insignificant family from Earth so strongly and intricately?"

"I don't know." Loki wrung his hands, halting his pacing at the end of the bed, but he continued to shift his weight from one foot to the other. "All I know is that Thanos is a very complicated being and has his ways of finding things out."

"Why is all this happening now?” I moaned, falling back onto the pillows. “Your coronation is tomorrow. You're already going to have a million things to do after that, and then this happens.”

Loki sucked in a collective breath, coming to sit next to me on the mattress. "I don't know. I won’t know much for a while, because I have to be impossibly careful when I gather my information. But I do know this: you're going to be alright. We're going to be alright. He's most likely using you to get to me. I won’t ever let him touch you. I’ll find a way to annihilate him, I promise, no matter what it takes."

***

"I've brought the gown you requested, my king," a maid, different than the night shift one that witnessed my breakdown the night before, announced from the doorway, a garment bag draped across her arms. 

Several hours later, Loki was anxiously preparing for his official coronation and I was perched at my vanity, doing my hair and makeup, fretting over what I was to wear. Though all of the gowns in my wardrobe were gorgeous, none seemed good enough for the coronation of the man I loved, even if I was only supposed to be his courtesan to the public.   
Earlier that morning as I went to breakfast, I so was overcome with fatigue and nausea that I assumed was from the vision I had that I had to go lay back down. Because of that, I was bedridden for the rest of the day and didn't have the strength to do anything about my dilemma. I was worried I would have to settle for not being confident on my first public appearance where my presence would be truly analyzed, and to top it all off, I still didn't feel my best. However, I tried to hide my anxiety and sickness as much as I could for Loki's sake. It was his day, and I wasn't going to ruin it or take any attention away from him.

From my mirror I watched Loki thank the maid and take the gown as I slid the final pin in my hair.

"What's that?" I inquired as I noticed a glimmer from the bag, spinning in my seat to face him.

“When I started arranging the coronation, I had a gown made for you for the occasion. I suppose it’s a gift of a sort.” Loki grinned sheepishly. “Take off your dressing gown and close your eyes.”

I stood and did as I was told, fighting a smile as I felt Loki slip something soft and light over me, thin fabric brushing the tips of my toes. He fastened the mystery gown in the back, then draped a heavy cloak over it, buttoning it at the hollow of my neck.

"You can open your eyes now," he whispered against my earlobe, cupping my shoulders.

I eagerly complied, facing the mirror and taking in the sight of myself. The gown itself was made from gossamer that seemed to be spun from pure gold, with a straight silhouette and delicate little straps encrusted with jewels. The gown on its own was ethereal, but the cloak was what made it truly regal. It was cut from the same green fabric as the cape draped around Loki’s shoulders, and had two layers, the uppermost one cut into a feminine capelet and the bottom one stretching into a lengthy train. The back of the garment was embroidered with gold thread in a pattern much like the one that formed my circlet.

I clapped my hands and bounced slightly in excitement. "Loki, this is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever worn."

"Only because you make it so." Loki pressed a tender kiss to my temple. "Now, it's time to start heading down to the throne room for the coronation. I'm afraid you'll have to go on without me, because I’m to make my entrance alone. The mage officiating the ceremony is going to meet you and lead you where you need to be." Loki was acting rather calm, but he had a boyish, endearing air of anxiety and nerves about him.

"Alright. And don't worry. The people will love you." I reached up and gave him one last parting kiss, grasping his hand before leaving, casting him one last encouraging smile as I slid through the door.

***

Nearly fifteen minutes later, I'd situated myself at the left-hand corner of the stairs leading to the throne. The coronation was being held in the ceremonial throne room, which was larger than any stadium I’d ever imagined and built quite similarly, thousands of people crammed into the seats and the particularly important filling the room behind the guards that lined the aisle. I tried to read the mood of the spectators, and though they weren’t buzzing with excitement, they didn’t seem angry. I chewed my lip, remembering that Loki had used mind control to originally bring the guards under his command, and wondered if he had done the same with the citizens. I kicked myself for thinking so, reasoning that he had grown up in the eyes of the public and surely showed good qualities to them before the New York incident, and prayed that the crowd remained as they were and didn’t turn against him. 

To stay my nerves, I directed my attention to the opposite side of the steps, where the commander of the Kingsguard, a lion-like man with copper waves and a closely-cut beard, stood. From what I had seen of his so far, he seemed a kind person, and gave me a warm smile as our eyes met. I returned it and glanced over at the baldheaded, robed mage that stood above us to the right of the throne, holding a grand, three-tipped golden staff.

The sound of the doors bursting open directed my attention back to the aisle, my heart swelling as Loki began his procession, a strong and determined expression shaping his features, regally acknowledging the citizens to his sides before catching my eye and grinning. He was outfitted in grand, ceremonial armor, helm and all, and appeared the glorious king I knew him to be. To my relief, the crowd was applauding, even a few scattered cheers sounding, and I was so happy that I had to dab tears from the corners of my eyes.

I watched intently as the mage descended the stairs, Loki kneeling before him. The mage delivered a brief speech before reciting the kingly vows, and Loki swore to them with a strong, resonating voice. As he did so, it was obvious that he carefully analyzed each one of the promises he was making and was absolutely serious when he swore to abide by them.

When he was handed the staff and officially pronounced king, Loki rose from his kneeling position, thanking the mage before presenting himself to the applauding crowd with a grand gesture, then hurried up the stairs, engulfing me in a bear hug and planting a passionate kiss on my lips, something I was sure wasn’t proper. However, I was so happy that I couldn’t conjure up the will to care, and he obviously couldn’t either, pulling back and flashing me a face-breaking grin as the crowd continued to applaud, the sound seeming to grow stronger at our gesture of affection. I squeezed his arms encouragingly, and he took my hand and led me back down the aisle, quite obviously showing me off.

"They applauded," he marveled once we were behind the doors, expression resembling that of a child in a candy shop. "They were… excited. They didn't protest or walk out or insult me."

"Of course they didn't." I hugged him tightly. "You're already a great king, and you will continue to be so and grow to be even better. I'm so, so proud of you."

Loki stared down at me lovingly, for once at a loss for words. To make up for it, he began to kiss me hungrily, oblivious to anyone who may be watching as those invited made their ways to the dining hall for the celebratory banquet and ball that would begin the customary three-day festival that followed the coronation.

"Tonight," Loki growled, breath hot against my neck, drawing an appalled look from an elderly noble couple passing us, "after the coronation ball, I am going to show you pleasure like you have never known before, again and again until you're driven into oblivion."

"I look forward to it," I gasped, moaning as all of my concerns about propriety fell away as he began to ravage me with his lips once again.

We couldn’t be bothered to pull away from each other, despite the gasps and murmurs that surrounded us, until they faded away completely and a guard approached to our side, clearing his throat. Loki and I pulled apart and noticed an empty hall and the guard’s highly uncomfortable expression.

"Y- Your Majesty, the feast is due to begin. The guests are awaiting your arrival," he announced, shuffling his feet.

"We're on our way. You’re dismissed." Loki smirked at me and took my hand, and we giggled childishly as the guard turned to make his leave.

On the way to the banquet hall, however, a sudden wave of weakness and heat washed over me, causing me to double over slightly, my breaths labored.

"Love, are you alright?" Loki bent down next to me, rubbing my back and searching my face in concern.

"I'm fine," I croaked, resting my hand on his shoulder, pulling myself upright.

He pressed his palm to my forehead, frowning slightly. "You're a little warmer than usual. You weren't feeling well this morning; are you sure you don't want the healers to look at you?"

"Maybe tomorrow. It’s probably just nerves about this whole situation." I forced a smile, pressing myself into his arms and stroking his cheek. "I'm not going to take away from your special day.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” I tugged at his hand. “Come on, let’s go. The people are waiting for you.”

Another polite round of applause sounded as we entered the hall, the occupants standing at their spots at the enormous dining table in respect. Loki flashed a subdued but genuine smile in response as he led me over to our seats, his at the head and mine at his right hand, then motioned for everyone to sit.

At the feast, I forced myself to eat at least half of each course and interact casually with the nobles without giving any indication that I felt faint. However, I sometimes wouldn't hear or register what was being said to me, I would soon forget conversations once they had ended, and I had to fight to keep my food down with an alarming amount of water, which I requested to have instead of wine.

During a break in the courses, another dizzying flash of hot and cold hit me, and I abruptly pushed myself up and whispered in Loki’s ear that I had to excuse myself to the powder room. In a disembodied haze, I stumbled over to the edge of the hall and pushed through the small door, hunching over the sink, my arms shaking with my weight.

I cupped my hand under the faucet and ice cold water spilled over it, and I ran the wetness over the back of my neck in the hopes that it would relieve me of my symptoms and bring me back to full awareness. I was unbearably dizzy and my vision was blurred, and I wanted nothing more in that moment than for it to stop.

Once I felt relatively stable, I pushed myself away from the support of the sink and shakily returned to the hall. However, before I could get very far, I tripped over my own feet and was caught by a guard, his concerned face multiplying as I turned to thank him. I allowed him to help me regain my balance and take a few steps, only to immediately have to lean against a column for support, breathing heavily.

"Camryn, are you alright?" Loki questioned warily from across the room, pushing himself up from his chair and hurrying over to me. I could barely make out what he was saying, though, for he sounded as if he were underwater.

"Yes, I- I'm fine,” I insisted, highly aware of the concerned murmurs that swarmed the room. I took a deep, ragged breath and pushed away from the wall, and everything went black.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has mentions of blood, and depictions of illness. And a lot of whump.

Loki watched in horror as Camryn’s body seemed to fold in on itself and she crumbled to the ground, his heart stopping as her head hit the gold with a sickening crack. Not sparing a single thought to the behavior befitting the king he was just crowned as, he pushed gawking feast attendees aside, rushing over to cradle her limp figure in his arms. He called out to her, but her eyes remained closed, her face paling to a dangerous shade, so white she seemed to be almost blue.

“Send healers to my chambers,” Loki barked at the nearest guard, standing up with Camryn still in his grasp. The guard dashed away and Loki fled the dining hall without so much as a glance towards the guests that called queries at him, only preoccupied with the way Camryn shook violently in his arms, childlike moans escaping her lips.

“I’ve got you, darling,” he whispered, struggling to keep his voice calm as he entered his apartments and pushed into the bedroom. “I’m here. Don’t worry.”

He wasn’t sure if his last comment was directed at her or himself.

After gingerly laying her on the bed, Loki pressed his palm to her forehead, finding her skin hot to the point of burning. He pulled his hand away and fussed about trying to make her as comfortable as possible, wondering what brought on a fever so severe so suddenly. He desperately wanted to do something to help her state, but there was nothing he could do until the healers arrived and determined what exactly was ailing her. Even so, he was completely unable to keep still, so he began to remove her gown, replacing it with a lightweight nightdress, her eyes fluttering open as he fastened the buttons up the front.

“Loki?” she whimpered, her voice cracking.

“Yes, love?” Attempting to remain calm, he pulled the blankets up to her chin and placed a hand on her burning cheek. He studied her features to try and figure out for himself what was wrong, noticing her now coal-black eyes ridden with a confused and muddled fog, her perpetually pouting lips dry and cracked, crying out for water.

“Wh-what happened?” she mumbled, tone barely over a whisper, eyes drifting closed and open then closed again.

“Well, during the feast, you fainted of a high fever.” Loki stroked Camryn’s hair, hoping to provide her some comfort. “The healers are on their way. Hopefully they’ll be able to determine the cause and restore your health.”

Suddenly alert, Camryn’s eyes widened as she sat bolt upright, only to fall back onto the pillows, her arms too weak to support herself. “During your coronation feast?” she gasped.”What about the ball that was supposed to follow, and the festival that’s going to be thrown over the rest of the week?”

“They can be postponed.” Loki took her clammy hand in his, pressing a quick kiss to her fingers. “Your health takes priority over everything.”

She nodded dismissively, putting her hand to her mouth and beginning to cough, the action sending tremors up and down her body. When she pulled her arm away, the sleeve of her nightgown was dotted with red, sending chills down Loki’s spine. She whimpered and turned wide eyes to Loki, features contorted in alarm. Thankfully at that moment, there was a knock on the door that preceded the entrance of two middle-aged healers, along with their head, Eir.

“My king.” she dipped into a slight curtsy before approaching the bed. “How is she faring? I’ve heard so much gossip in only the past five minutes.”

“Not well,” Loki all but whispered, fearing that if he said it aloud, it would make the danger of Camryn’s condition true. However, he had been close to Eir since he was a child. She had treated all of his ailments, from minor cuts and scrapes from fights with Thor, to life-threatening, heat-induced illnesses that he had no idea the origin of at the time. Oftentimes, when Frigga was away or busy when he was a child, Loki would spend his time in the healing room, hovering behind Eir’s skirts, asking questions about everything she was doing and begging to be taught the healing spells she knew.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Eir’s piercing blue eyes scanned Camryn’s form, her expression a well-practiced mask of warm indifference.

“Wait, I remember you. From when I thought Loki was dead-” Camryn attempted to sit up once more, but again fell back onto the bed and placed a shaking hand over her eyes. Loki adjusted her pillows so that she might be in a more comfortable position.

“Call me Eir, my dear.” She motioned to her two assistants, then positioned herself at the edge of the bed, conjuring a holographic orange cradle with countless moving monitors, beginning her examination.

“Has she been vomiting at all?” Eir inquired, pressing a weathered hand to Camryn’s forehead.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Loki replied, standing by awkwardly, hating that he had to stay out of the way.

“Well, damn.” Eir frowned. “I had my suspicious that she may have that awful sickness that plagued Asgard in an epidemic so many years ago- the one that you and Thor caught such bad cases of that you had to be sent to the countryside for six moons. It would be a ghastly diagnosis, but an easy one; one that we would know how to fix. But it appears that we’ll have to get creative.”

Loki crossed his arms over his chest and began to worry his finger at his lip, fear growing exponentially as Eir’s assistants returned, one carrying a large basin, the other a stack of washcloths.

“Thank you, girls.” Eir motioned for the basin to be placed on the bedside table and dipped a cloth into the water, wringing it out before passing it onto Loki. “I can tell you’re desperate for something to do, so sponge her face and neck with that, and wet it once again when it becomes warm.” As Eir continued her examination, she caught sight of Camryn’s sleeve, picking up her wrist and inspecting the stained material. “You’ve been coughing up blood?”

“Just the once,” Camryn replied weakly, the expression on her face clearly reading misery.

At that, Loki hurried from wringing out the cloth to Camryn’s bedside, running the damp fabric over her forehead.

“It’s going to be alright, love,” he whispered. “We’re going to find something that will make you feel better.”

After a while longer of toying with the monitors and muttering to herself, Eir waved her hand to make the cradle disappear, then produced a vial of clear liquid from the pocket of her powder blue uniform.

“I’ve no idea what her diagnosis is. She has a sudden intense fever and she’s coughing up blood with no other symptoms to tie those two together, so I can’t treat anything definitively.” Eir looked from Loki to Camryn, who was leaning into Loki’s hand as he ran the cloth over her cheeks. “But give her this and make sure she sleeps, and her fever should subside by the morning.”

“Thank you very much for all of your help.” Loki took the vial and set it aside. “I think I can handle her care for the night.”

“I agree.” Eir gave him a slight smile, patting Camryn’s hand. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be back midmorning to check on things.”

Once Eir left the room with her assistants, Loki deflated, finally able to drop his barely maintained air of regality. Using seidr to transform his armor into something with more mobility, he settled onto the bed next to Camryn’s only half-lucid form, bringing her to attention with a gentle caress on her heated cheek.

“Here, darling.” He placed his arm around her shoulders and helped her into a sitting position. “This should help you feel better.”

He positioned the vial at her lips, and she drank obediently. Once the contents of the vial had gone down her throat, she coughed once and abruptly stopped herself, eyes watering as she fought the unpleasant experience to follow.

“It’s alright.” Loki rubbed her back, taking a fresh cloth from the table and holding it to her mouth. “Go ahead and cough, love. You’ll feel much better if you get it over with, and perhaps you’ll cough up whatever illness this is.”

She stopped fighting, then, and began to cough once again, so hard Loki feared she was going to get sick. When she was finished, she slumped against his shoulder, shaking like a leaf. Loki discarded the stained fabric and planted a kiss on her forehead, helping her lie down and dragging the blankets up to her chin. Using all of his strength to mask his concern, Loki walked to the other side of the bed to sit right next to her with his feet on the floor, continuing to dab her forehead and cheeks with the cool cloths, the action soon lulling her to sleep.

***

As the night progressed, Camryn’s fever only seemed to crawl higher and higher. Her rest progressively became more fitful: first, she began to murmur something indistinct, then she started to roll back and forth on the bed, seemingly unable to get comfortable, which soon grew into full on thrashing and crying out, blood leaking from her nose. At that, Loki, who had been trying to calm her the entire time, pulled her to his chest and shushed gently, but she was simply unconsolable and half unconscious.

The monitoring spell that Eir had placed in the form of an orange orb on the nightstand, however, was flashing rapidly, and soon she burst into the room with a frantic expression, tying the belt of her dressing gown.

“What’s wrong with her?” she gasped, observing the scene with wide eyes.

“She seems to have gotten worse.” Loki felt Camryn’s hot, frantic breaths on his neck, and again attempted to calm her, to no avail.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Eir bustled over to the bedside table, wetting a cloth and draping it around Camryn’s neck, but the moment the wet fabric touched her skin, she began to shiver with chills. Loki draped a thick blanket around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, so concerned with her state that he no longer worried about proper appearances.

“I don’t know what could possibly be wrong. In every case I’ve used that antidote in, no matter how severe, it’s worked perfectly.” Desperately wanting to do something to help, Eir seized a hairbrush from the vanity across the room and combed through Camryn’s wild hair, twisting it into a tight braid before replacing the cloth around her neck. The moment Eir let go of the fabric, however, Camryn let out an ear-splitting scream and began to thrash once again, sobbing all the while.

“Loki!” she cried, gasping for breath. “Loki, make it stop!”

“Love, shh, shh. I’m right here.” Loki tried to swallow the panic in his voice as he gently held her head to his shoulder, rocking back and forth. “I’m right here, shh.”

Her sobs faded out at suddenly as they came as she relaxed in his arms, eyes dropping open but completely unseeing, her mind far away, if there at all.

“Please, Eir,” Loki begged. “I’ll do anything. Please, help me get her well. It’s killing me to see her in such a state.”

“I want her well, too. She’s different, in a very good way. She’s a soul I don’t think you or Asgard should lose.” Eir rose from the side of the bed and gave her dressing gown a definitive shake. “I swear to you, my king: I’m going to tear apart every book we have, research every antidote, herb, and spell in the nine realms, and find something to make her well. I won’t rest until that happens. If you’ll excuse me, I would like to get to it immediately.”

After Eir dashed from the room, Loki pried Camryn from his body and laid her back onto the bed, continuing his seemingly useless attempt to cool her skin. He placed wet cloths behind her neck and across her forehead, but they seemed to become hot almost the moment they touched her skin and had to be changed. Loki kept a damp one in his hand, dabbing it across her cheeks and eventually unbuttoning a few clasps from the front of her nightgown and dotting her chest with the cold water.

Those actions soon began to break his heart, however, for every time a fresh washcloth came in contact with her skin, she moaned or whimpered, grappling at the blankets as if looking for more. After a few hours, it seemed as if every blanket in the palace rested upon her bed, and every washcloth had been wet and placed on her skin, but her shivers only grew more violent, and her fever only climbed dreadfully higher.


End file.
